


Please Come Home for Christmas

by JRreads



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Holiday: xmas, M/M, Romance, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRreads/pseuds/JRreads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a four month separation, Jim awaits Blair's return to Cascade.<br/>This story is a sequel to Price of Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Come Home for Christmas

## Songs You Know by Heart 5: Please Come Home for Christmas

By JR

Author's homepage: <http://www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/index2.html>

Archive summary: After a four month separation, Jim anxiously awaits Blair's return to Cascade for the holidays. 

Disclaimer: Jim, Blair, Steven, Simon, and everyone else you recognize are owned by UPN and Pet Fly Productions and are used without their permission. All songs inspired by the Very Special Christmas CDs, volumes 1 & 2\. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it. 

There are a lot of people to thank for helping me with this. Big hugs for Saraid, Regina, Jeana, and Heather for everything from beta reading to moral support. Many thanks for the wonderful suggestions and encouragement. All mistakes are mine, since they were probably corrected at some point or another. 

This story is part of the series Songs You Know by Heart. The previous parts can be found at Merry's 852 Prospect site, or just e-mail me directly for them. There be sex in them thar pages -- so if you weren't alive before M-TV started broadcasting, take a hike. 

//Indicates song lyrics// 

* * *

December 23rd, 3:30 PM 

//Bells will be ringing the glad, glad news  
Oh what a Christmas to have the blues  
My baby's gone, I have no friends  
To wish me greetings, oh once again// 

Taking another sip of coffee out of the styrofoam cup in his hand, Jim Ellison sighed deeply. It was Christmas, dammit. The season of peace, goodwill towards men and all that crap. Obviously, somebody forgot to pass that information along to the gang of carjackers that had been plaguing the parking lots of Cascade's two largest shopping malls. 

Although he would never say it out loud, Jim had to admit that the idea was a sound one. The gang would place a few of their people inside the mall to keep an eye out for a mark who was doing all of his or her Christmas shopping in one day, especially those who bought jewelry. The inside person would follow the customer around, and then use a cell phone to inform his cohorts from which door the mark exited the mall. The outside team would track the victim to their car, hold them up at gunpoint, and not only take the car, but all of the mark's purchases as well. It was a fairly easy plan that so far had been flawlessly executed. 

The biggest problem for Cascade's finest was the seemingly random pattern of the crimes. The first incident had occurred on the day after Thanksgiving at the Harbor Mall, the second two days later at Cascade Town Center. There were few leads to go on, so the police stepped up their presence in the parking area, hoping to deter further incidents. It wasn't even assigned to the Major Crimes division until the second victim decided that his car was more important than his life. In the ensuing struggle, William Braddock was shot and bled to death before help could arrive. Jim was certain that Braddock's wife and children would have preferred a Christmas with no presents over the funeral that they had attended four weeks ago. It saddened the detective that some people were more concerned about 'things' rather than their own safety; but more importantly, it struck a nerve that this gang chose what was supposed to be the season of peace and goodwill to commit these crimes. 

"Hey Ellison, you didn't zone out on me or anything, did you?" Brian Ryf's voice broke into his thoughts. At Blair's departure almost four months ago, Simon Banks had insisted that Jim take on a new partner, one who was to have full disclosure of the detective's Sentinel abilities. Although their first few weeks working as partners had been rough, Jim and Brian had managed to struggle through. Ryf quickly learned how to work with someone who had enhanced senses, and the Sentinel came to depend on the younger man to help him stay focused while in the field. Together, they maintained the best case-solved rate in the Cascade Police Department, although Jim's number had been slightly higher when he was teamed with Blair. 

It may not have seemed like a big deal, but Jim always referred to Ryf as his partner, never his Guide. That was one role that would forever belong solely to Blair Sandburg, Ph.D.. Even if he had tried, the Sentinel doubted that he would ever feel the same connection to his new partner that he had with the anthropologist. What Jim shared with Blair was something that only happens once in a lifetime, a bond that they had nurtured carefully, allowing it to grow from reluctant partners, to roommates, to tentative buddies, to best friends, and then finally, to so much more. 

"No, I'm still here, unfortunately," Jim mumbled the last part under his breath. There were a thousand and one errands the Sentinel needed to finish before Blair's arrival, and sitting in an unmarked car with his partner in sub-zero temperatures was not the way to get any of them done. Ryf droned on about the cold weather, bitching about it the same way Blair used to. With nothing else to do, the detective felt his mind begin to wander over the events of the past few months. 

* * *

Four months. Four long months since that one magical night had happened. The night before Blair was to leave for his new job in Virginia, he and Jim found comfort and solace in each others arms. A single kiss borne of unspoken love led them to the single most passionate night of lovemaking the Sentinel ever experienced. They fell asleep in each others arms, only to have their world fall apart the next morning. 

Unable to cope with the fact that he had actually slept with another man, his best friend and Guide at that, Jim emotionally backpedaled away from Blair the next day. His actions left the younger man confused, angry, and hurt. After a week of sorely missing his Guide's presence, Jim was able to gradually get past the initial denial of his feelings to accept that he did, indeed, love Blair. However, coming to grips with that fact proved to be an uphill battle. 

When Jim finally called Blair later that same week to apologize for his immature behavior, he found himself confessing that he was willing to eventually pursue a physical relationship with the younger man. With wisdom beyond his thirty years, Blair suggested that they wait before reaching that decision. As was his nature, Jim pressured his Guide to admit that he, too, wanted this new aspect of their love for each other to continue. In the end, Blair left the choice of whether or not they would pursue a sexual relationship up to the older man. Whatever Jim decided, Blair would abide by it and not push for more. The younger man was true to his word, he never mentioned the subject when they spoke on the phone; however, he would discuss it freely when Jim brought it up. 

From that point onward, daily phone calls were the only contact between the two men. The initial pain of separation faded somewhat, but it never went away completely. The calls were almost a necessary evil; a mix of heaven in hearing each other's voices, and hell with the knowledge that another day had passed and they were still apart. The need they felt to be near each other wasn't so much a sexual hunger as it was a basic instinctual yearning to go back to the deep friendship that had bound them together for almost four years. In fact, what Jim missed most about his friend was the thousand little things that haunted him daily; Blair's soothing voice, his endless knowledge of all things trivial, the comforting sound of his heartbeat that let the Sentinel know when the younger man was simply somewhere close by. 

When Jim mentioned that last part in one of their conversations, Blair made an audio tape of just his heartbeat and sent it to his partner. The Sentinel often used the recording to help him on those occasional nights he had trouble falling asleep. It wasn't enough to completely fool his senses about his Guide's absence, but it was a start. The simple fact was that there was nothing that would appease Jim's fundamental need for Blair, except the man himself. 

One night in October, Jim tried to explain the feeling to Blair. "I don't know if it's about friendship, love, or even a Sentinel/Guide thing, but it's like a part of me is missing." Blair understood completely, even though he, too, was unable to find the exact cause. "I think it's probably a combination of all of those things," he answered softly. "Do you believe in soulmates, Jim?" Up until that time, if anyone else had asked that same question, the detective would have laughed, but now he knew better. Somewhere, sometime, one of Blair's infinite number of gods had decided to divide one soul into two pieces. They gave one half to Jim Ellison and the other to Blair Sandburg, forcing them to come together to be complete. 

Religion and mysticism aside, it wasn't always easy for Jim to accept the realities of his destiny. The fact that the detective loved his friend in platonic terms had never been an issue; he knew it, and more importantly, Blair knew it, even though Jim never said as much. They showed each other how important their friendship was in dozens of ways every day, whether it was giving each other rides to work or saving each other's lives in the course of their police cases. 

The most difficult part for Jim to come to grips with was the fundamental change that he was making in his sexual orientation. Up until that night, he would have classified both of them in the category 'heterosexual -- devout and devoted.' Never before in his life had Jim been attracted to another man, and the concept of being bi or gay was so alien to him, the detective needed warp capacity just to be able to entertain the thought. 

No matter how many times he told himself that he wanted to pursue a sexual relationship with Blair, there was still a tiny part of his mind that was still repelled by the thought; after all, forty years of a certain mindset was not going to be supplanted by one night of passion. Without the object of his affections nearby, Jim went through periods where he was sure that the whole situation had been a figment of his imagination, some nightmare brought on by too much beer and bad chili-cheesedogs. When those times occurred, Jim often found himself uncontrollably angry; at himself for his feelings, and at Blair for bringing those emotions out in him in the first place. 

It was his Guide's misfortune to call one night during one of those rages almost two months after he left Cascade. Jim gave the younger man credit for not hanging up the phone at the hurtful things that seemed to fly out of his mouth of their own volition. Despite the fact that the venomous words were cutting him to the quick, the younger man listened to every syllable that the detective snarled at him. By the time Jim's anger ran out of steam, the older man was almost in tears, begging for Blair's forgiveness for his outburst. Always looking out for his Sentinel's well-being, his Guide forgave him unconditionally, and reminded Jim that he, in fact, was in control of their relationship. 

They talked for hours the following night, a no-holds-barred discussion of their hopes, desires, and fears about the situation. What began as a heart-to-heart of their own deepest feelings eventually evolved into a thorough conversation that spun slowly into various tangents -- the pros and cons of loving another man in today's society, whether or not they should be 'out' or more specifically, who they should inform about their new relationship, professional repercussions -- everything right down to the actual mechanics of sex between two men. 

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Jim was nevertheless mortified when Blair revealed that he had done some research on the subject of homosexuality. "What do you expect, man? Research is what I do for a living," the younger man laughed. He never told Blair, but a few days later, Jim bit the bullet and surfed the net to do some research of his own. Although it was not enough, Jim found some degree of comfort when he anonymously logged into a chat room dedicated to helping those who were having problems coping with their newly discovered 'alternative' sexual drives. 

The most awkward point in the conversation, however, came a little later. Almost two weeks after the night they spent as lovers, Jim realized that they didn't use any type of protection in their sexual encounter. In all of their previous phone calls, the detective never felt comfortable enough to bring up the subject. For some bizarre reason, Jim was afraid that Blair would find any inquiry a sign of disrespect, or even worse, a lack of trust. In all honesty, Jim figured that with all of Blair's various stays in the hospital over the past four years, at least one of the lab work-ups conducted on the younger man would have alerted the medical workers that there was something wrong with his partner. Besides, there wasn't a doubt in Jim's mind that Blair would have ever engaged in unprotected sex if he was HIV positive. Still, the virus could remain dormant for years, and with the number of women his roommate had gone through just in the time he had known him, the Sentinel couldn't help but wonder. 

Without the slightest bit of censure, Blair informed him that the night he spent with Jim was the first time he had engaged in unprotected sex since he turned 20. "One of the few rules that Naomi actually drilled into my head was 'no glove, no love,' and she ought to know," Blair quipped, referring to his mother's numerous casual affairs. As if his word wasn't enough, later that same week Jim received a Priority mail packet that contained copies of his Guide's medical history, including the negative results of five years' worth of HIV tests. Jim didn't bother to send Blair his own records, seeing as how the younger man had been given access to all of the Sentinel's medical files back when he was working on his dissertation. 

The relief that Jim felt was augmented by the next turn in the conversation. It took some coaxing, but Blair finally admitted that he hadn't been on so much as a date since he'd left Cascade. The happiness that flowed through Jim when he heard that tidbit of information caused his heart to soar, only to have it come crashing down to earth when he realized he couldn't offer his Guide the same comfort. 

If Blair was at all upset by Jim's revelation, he did an amazing job at hiding it. Even Jim's enhanced senses couldn't detect any hint of distress in his Guide when the detective admitted that he had not only been on two dates, but that he had also slept with one of the women. Blair took the news in stride, understanding that at the time Jim was feeling a need to prove to himself that he was still attracted to the opposite sex. Feeling extremely guilty, the detective pointed out that he hadn't taken either one of the women out on a second date. That information got a reaction from his Guide. It didn't take Sentinel hearing to recognize the relief in Blair's voice when he teased Jim about his inability to go out with a woman more than once. 

That single phone call helped Jim to make great strides in reaching a certain amount of peace with the situation. Although he was still fighting small battles and skirmishes over the realities of having a relationship with another man, he finally came to terms with the fact that he had already lost the war when it came to loving Blair Sandburg. In the end, the patience and understanding Blair gave him drove home the fact that, even though sex was the aspect of their new relationship that spooked Jim the most, it ultimately wasn't the central issue. 

Truth be told, deep down, the Sentinel knew instinctively that he started loving Blair after that psychopath, Lash, kidnapped the younger man. That was the first time the detective realized just how important Blair was to him, not as his partner, or as his Guide, but simply as his friend. The guilt Jim felt over allowing Blair to be taken was nothing when compared with the overwhelming happiness that overcame him when the medics finally signaled that Blair would be alright. It was at that exact moment when he knew that somehow all of his efforts to keep the younger man at an emotional distance had failed. Somehow, Blair had found a way to get into his heart, just like he had managed to worm his way into Jim's life. 

After that conversation, Jim's anxiety attacks became fewer and further apart. Every now and then, one would creep up on him, but Blair was always willing to help his Sentinel through it. It meant the world to Jim that the younger man never once tried to force their new relationship on him. From the beginning, Blair left the ultimate decision up to his partner. 

The last panic attack Jim suffered occurred four days before Thanksgiving. It wasn't a surprise, as both of them were expecting it at some point before Blair actually returned to Cascade. While they were apart from each other, it was easier for the Sentinel to pretend that he was accepting of the change in the nature of their relationship. However, with his Guide actually present, the reality of the situation would be unavoidable. 

For two solid days and nights, Jim played the 'what if?' game. What if his feeling for Blair weren't real? What if he was no longer attracted to the younger man? What if he couldn't handle getting intimate again? What if people saw them together and figured out what happened? Unaware of the cause of his best detective's agitation, Simon sent the Sentinel home before taking it upon himself to call Sandburg behind Jim's back to ask the younger man if he could figure out what the problem was. Another all-night conversation with Blair calmed him enough so that he could return to work the next day. 

The following day, Jim walked on air, looking forward to Blair's arrival later that evening. It had been a long three months, and the Sentinel was truly looking forward to seeing his Guide again. However, as with everything in their lives, if they didn't have bad luck, they'd have no luck at all. 

Hours before he was to leave for the airport, Blair's latest subject with enhanced senses, Sabra Lowstein, lost control of her car while on the way to pick up her instructor to take him to the airport. The impact of hitting a telephone pole at 35 miles-an-hour broke almost every bone on the left side of her body and left her with massive internal damage. Blair called Jim from the hospital as he waited for word on whether or not his newest student would live or die. 

The call came through on the cell phone while Jim was at the station. Whatever disappointment the Sentinel felt when Blair said he wouldn't be coming for the holiday instantly evaporated as his Guide explained what happened. Although he had never met Sabra in person, the detective had talked with her many times, discussing various aspects of their heightened senses. While the Sentinel was upset by the tragic news of the young woman, it was the grief and utter devastation Jim heard in his Guide's voice that caused the color to drain away from his own face. This was the first time since their separation that Blair actually needed his best friend and Blessed Protector, and Jim's inability to be there for his partner weighed heavily on him. 

The detective's loss of composure and his worried tone was enough to attract the attention of almost every set of eyes in the bullpen. Seeking refuge, Jim moved quickly to the relative safety of Simon's office. The Captain's head rose sharply, ready to chew him out for just bursting in without knocking, but one look at the Sentinel's pale, shocky complexion was enough to forestall any comments. 

Seeing Simon's brows arch questioningly, Jim reached for a legal pad and a pen. Without breaking his stream of comforting words to his Guide, the detective jotted down a brief outline of what was going on with Sandburg. Simon knew how rattled Blair became in hospital waiting rooms -- God knows, he had seen it often enough anytime Jim was injured. It used to amaze the Captain how well the observer could keep his head in the most dangerous situations; but once the stress was over, the kid shattered like so much fine crystal. 

For his part, Jim was desperately trying to calm his frantic Guide. Although Blair was probably unaware that he was in a full-blown panic, the Sentinel couldn't help but notice that the younger man's heart was racing at dangerous speeds as he rambled on about the unfairness of it all. What was worse was that the detective just knew that it wouldn't take long for the guilt to set in. It was simply Blair's nature to find some way, no matter how twisted, to blame himself for every little ill that befell those he was close to. Sadly, Blair didn't disappoint him when he spoke his next words. 

"It was my fault, Jim. She zoned out. I just know it, man. I'm here to teach her how to control her abilities, and I failed her," Blair muttered through his sobs. 

Every fiber of the Sentinel's being was screaming at him to jump on the nearest plane to be with his Guide when the younger man so obviously needed him. Jim scribbled another note to Simon, asking for time off to go to his distraught friend. Without another thought, the Captain simply nodded his assent and picked up the phone to have his secretary make the arrangements. 

An hour later found Blair crying again, this time in relief when the surgeon informed him that Sabra had made it through the surgery, but warned him that her chances of surviving the next twenty-four hours were not promising. Rhonda had no luck in finding Jim a ticket, Eastern Virginia College was simply too close to Washington, DC, and with everybody trying to get home for Thanksgiving, there were no seats available on any flights for the next two days. Simon went above and beyond the call, instructing his secretary to inform the airlines that Jim was travelling on official police business. The tactic was usually enough for the reservationist to 'magically' find an open seat, but not this time. 

After two hours of constant use, the battery in Blair's cell phone finally gave out. Knowing that the younger man would call back on a land line in just a few minutes, Jim took advantage of the short pause to get in touch with some old army buddies. His intentions of calling in a few outstanding favors to secure a ride on a military transport was useless. With so many soldiers headed home on leave, there was no room for any more passengers. 

Stymied in his attempts to reach Blair in person, the Sentinel did his best to reassure his Guide by phone. Jim continued talking to the younger man on his cellular as he left the station and made his way home. Once back at the loft, he called the pay phone at the hospital, and settled in for a long night. 

As the hours slowly passed, the conversation often lapsed into longs periods of silence. Despite the crick in his neck, the thought of hanging up never occurred to him. Right now, the open phone line was the only physical connection between them, and the Sentinel instinctively knew that his Guide desperately needed it to continue. It was almost as if the fiber optics not only carried the sound of Jim's voice to Blair, but his strength, support, and love as well. 

Twenty-four hours later, Sabra was still alive, but still in critical condition. The doctors believed that although the worst was over, she wouldn't be completely out of the woods until she woke up from the coma she was in. Her recovery was going to be long and painful, and Blair swore that he would be there every step of the way. Exhausted and relieved, both men ended their vigils; Blair's over Sabra, and Jim's over Blair. 

Sabra regained consciousness on Thanksgiving Day. Through the constant haze of pain she was experiencing, she was nevertheless quick to reassure Blair that the accident was the result of sliding on a patch of icy road, rather than a zone out. The information helped to alleviate most of the guilt that had shrouded the anthropologist. There was only one good thing that came from Sabra's accident. It drove home the point that even though Jim and Blair could function independently, they could still fall back on each other in times of crisis -- just like they always had. 

Nevertheless, Jim still planned to fly out to Virginia on Friday to provide moral support for his Guide, but once again fate intervened. At some point in the wee hours of Friday morning, the hot water heater in the loft blew up, forcing the detective to clean up the three inches of standing water. As if that situation weren't bad enough, the first three carjackings happened over the same weekend. Between Jim's surveillance hours and Blair's teaching schedule, they mutually decided to hold off on seeing each other until Christmas. 

As the weeks passed by, Jim's emotional ups and downs settled to a more median level. The Sentinel was eager to see his Guide again, but he still couldn't help feeling a little nervous about what would happen when they were finally together. By that time, Jim knew that he wasn't nervous about 'being' with Blair again; instead, his trepidation's came from worrying about the opinions of his friends and peers. 

As much as he wanted to keep Blair in the loft for the whole week of his visit, Jim knew that the younger man had been invited to Simon's annual Christmas Eve party, and that he was looking forward to seeing everybody from the department again. The detective was terrified that his colleagues would take one look at the two of them and instantly know that they were sleeping together. He knew that he could keep his own face as blank as a slate wall, but Blair was a different story. Even the smallest shift in emotions showed itself on that ever-expressive face. 

* * *

Ryf looked over at his partner and rolled his eyes. Jim had been sitting quietly for the past couple hours with the goofiest grin on his face. The younger detective wasn't really surprised, Blair's flight arrived at 11:55 PM, but with the three hour time difference, he would be taking off relatively soon. He couldn't ever recall seeing Jim this anxious before, Ryf would have sworn that he could actually feel the anticipation rolling off the older man in waves. 

"Jesus, Ellison, calm down," Ryf said in mock exasperation as he indulged the Sentinel with a smile. Truth be told, he was looking forward to seeing the anthropologist again himself. Over the course of the four years Blair spent working as an observer, Ryf had formed a friendship with the other man. However, it wasn't until he replaced Blair as Jim's partner that he realized just how remarkable the anthropologist was. 

It seemed that Jim used his Sentinel abilities each day in some new way that amazed him. It had taken some time to get used to working with Ellison, the man could be exasperating as hell at times; especially when one of his senses went haywire. Dealing with an irritable Sentinel wasn't the easiest job in the world under the best of circumstances, but at least Ryf had Blair's dissertation and notes to work from. Ryf could remember being absolutely floored when he learned that the Sentinel and his Guide had learned everything they knew about Jim's senses by trial and error. 

It was no wonder that they were so close, despite Jim's habit of remaining emotionally distant. Only someone with Blair's combination of kindness, patience, and tenacity would have stuck by the older man's side through the initial onset of his senses. Ryf could still recall hearing about Ellison's temper, not to mention his weird behavior during the Switchman case, back when he was a patrolman. 

He remembered the all the gossip that ran through the station when Blair had first been granted observer status, not to mention how much it grew out of control when the younger man moved into Jim's loft. Ryf had never believed a word of the rumors of Ellison and Sandburg being lovers. It was ludicrous, both of them were obviously devoutly straight. Besides, even if it was true, it was none of his business, anyway. 

No, Ryf understood better than most why the two men were so close. First, there was the covert reason, the Sentinel thing. However, even before he became aware of that aspect of Jim Ellison, Ryf knew that the older man was very careful when he chose his friends. God help anyone that threatened someone that Jim cared for; but even God couldn't help anyone or anything that threatened Blair Sandburg. Ryf had heard the joke about the Sentinel being the anthropologist's Blessed Protector, and personally, he thought the title didn't even begin to cover Jim's primal ferociousness when it came to Sandburg's safety. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryf saw Jim check his watch. Their replacements were expected at any minute, and they were both more than ready to call it a day. Weeks of monotonous and boring of a stakeouts were enough for anybody. 

Brown and Myers pulled up in another unmarked sedan. They watched the dark-skinned detective pick up his cell phone and dial. Jim's own cellular rang a second later. As soon as they finished the short conversation, the partners were on their way back to the loft. 

* * *

December 23rd 5:21 PM 

//Please come home for Christmas,  
Please come home for Christmas.  
If not for Christmas, by New Year's night// 

Brown and Myers' tardiness set Jim behind schedule for the rest of the afternoon. It was going to be a busy night, what with having dinner with Steven and then picking up Blair at the airport. No matter what he tried, the Sentinel couldn't wipe the dopey grin that he was sporting off his face. Only a few more hours to go before he would be reunited with Blair. 

Ryf couldn't help shooting a matching grin at his partner's ill-concealed anticipation. As they pulled up in front of the loft, the younger man couldn't help but tease his partner. "Careful, Ellison. You keep smiling like that and your face might freeze. Man, I never knew you had so many teeth!" 

Any other time, Jim would have gifted his partner with either a sarcastic comment or a fierce glare, but not today. There was nothing that could spoil the feeling of elation that kept him walking on air. "Just keep it up, Ryf," Jim said as he shook his head and closed the car door. The younger man honked the horn as he drove off, leaving the Sentinel to make his way into the building. 

The elevator deposited him on his floor, and he made quick work of the door locks. Jim needed to haul ass if he wanted to be on time to meet Steven across town. Even though his Sentinel sight compensated for the darkness of the room, he still reached for the light switch next to the door, barely remembering in time to close his eyes before he flipped it on. 

The wash of light throughout the room registered behind the closed lids. The Sentinel was careful to open his eyes slowly, allowing his sensitive optic nerves time to adjust to the brightness of the two floor lamps and the 400 small white bulbs that adorned not only the large Christmas tree, but each of the balcony windows as well. 

The room really did look beautiful, even if he did say so himself. When the detective lived by himself after his divorce, the only Christmas decorating he ever bothered with was throwing a wreath up on the door. The first two years Blair lived at the loft, he respected Jim's wishes "not to clutter the place up." That request was honored up until last year, when Blair and Naomi decreed that the place would benefit from some holiday cheer. Not much for decorating, Jim did his best to recreate the festive room that mother and son had put together last year. 

As Jim looked around, he was drawn in by the sight of the tiny white lights reflecting against the glass. He remembered how furious he had been when Blair drove nails into the window frames to support the lights last year. Once that memory returned, it unleashed a flood of others, and Jim willingly let himself be swept away by his thoughts of Christmas last year. 

* * *

It had been late November when Blair suggested that they have a 'family' holiday, and with Steven finally back in his life, Jim happily agreed. Naomi and Steven were both surprised and delighted to accept their invitations. A few weeks later, Blair's mother arrived on the first day of Hanukkah, which fell relatively late on the calendar that year. Jim was truly honored when both mother and son invited him to take part in the lighting of the menorah, and he listened carefully to the history and significance of the holy days. 

With only a three days to go before Christmas, it was Naomi who finally commented on the lack of decorations in the loft. Both Sandburgs were horrified when they discovered that the older man didn't own a single bulb, ornament, or string of tinsel for that matter. In deference to his mother's wishes, the anthropologist grabbed the detective by the arm and literally dragged Jim down to the nearest Wal-Mart to stock up on what seemed like every type of decoration conceivable. 

At the store, their normal bickering escalated into a playful argument over the color of the lights. Ever the minimalist, Jim wanted them all to be white, while Blair preferred the more festive multicolored strands. They finally solved the problem when Jim said that he would pay for the lights and the tree if his Guide purchased everything else. 

As they walked back to the truck, the detective began to suspect that his roommate created the conflict in the store to get him into the Christmas spirit, and worst of all, the diversion had worked. Thirty minutes later and a $150 poorer, they made their way to the Policeman's Auxiliary League Christmas tree lot. A second argument started there when they disagreed over which was the "perfect tree." 

"Oh, come on Jim, that's not tree, that's a shrub! There is absolutely no way we are taking home that sorry looking, half dead, Charlie Brown Christmas tree, man," Blair stated firmly as he held the tree he preferred. The sight of his smaller Guide being dwarfed by the nine foot Douglas fir in his hand was hysterical, but the Sentinel restrained himself, lest the younger man inquire as to what was so funny. 

"Sandburg, they charge for these things by the damn foot. There's no way I'm shelling out that much money for something that is only going to be thrown out in another two weeks. Besides, what is it with you? I figured you'd rather chain yourself to a tree than buy one that has had it's life abruptly ended for, how did you put it again? Oh yeah, for 'an economically driven, commercialized, corrupted holiday,'" he quoted. 

Blair gave the comment a mocking laugh and rolled his eyes. "Real cute, Jim. Look, these trees are commercially grown, man. The farms they raise them on replant every year, so each of these trees will have replacements. It's not like they are slash- burning rainforests or sawing down ancient redwoods for lumber. Besides, they collect the trees after the holidays for mulching. Recycling, man. Ain't it grand?" 

Despite his best intentions not to buy the larger tree, Jim waffled at the puppy dog look on Blair's face. That particular expression had the same effect on him that kryptonite had on Superman -- one glimpse of it, and the Sentinel was rendered absolutely powerless. Clenching his jaw in annoyance, Jim reached for the stump of the tree, and tied it to the bed of his truck after he handed his roommate the money to pay for it. "Just remember that you're responsible for cleaning all the needles up in the loft and in my truck, Chief," he warned as they made their way home. 

They called Steven, who was delighted to join them in trimming the tree. The two Ellisons spent much of the evening reminiscing about the few happy Christmases they shared before their mother left them. In return, both Sandburgs kept them laughing with some of their holiday horror stories. Jim and Blair were somewhat surprised, but nevertheless thrilled by how well Steven and Naomi got along, despite the glaring differences in their personalities. In fact, those same differences made for some pretty lively debates on every subject from music to taxation, but fortunately none of the discussions ever turned ugly or got out of hand. Jim and Blair kept giving each other sly smiles as they heard their relatives rehash topics that they themselves squabbled over from time to time. "It must be in the genes," his Guide whispered for his Sentinel's ears alone. 

The next day, Steven and Naomi accompanied the partners to Simon's annual Christmas Eve party, and found themselves having a blast among the rowdy cops. It was late by the time they returned to the loft, and rather than drive back across town, Steven crashed on the other sofa in the living room. As he drifted off to sleep, Jim couldn't help but smile at the sounds of his brother and Guide whispering back and forth between their makeshift beds on the two couches. Never before had the loft been so full, and for the first time since he was a child, Jim finally felt as though he was a part of a real family again. 

Blair and Naomi both rose early to begin cooking a magnificent feast for the four of them. As soon as the turkey went into the oven, they sat down to exchange presents. Jim was surprised to find that watching the others open the gifts he had meticulously chosen for them gave him more pleasure than unwrapping his own presents. 

After a simple snack instead of lunch, Blair herded everyone downstairs under the pretense of 'weather testing' the new thermal gloves and coat that were a gift from his partner. Jim never even saw the first snowball come at him, and when he saw his younger brother grinning evilly, he could do no less than retaliate. It wasn't long before a full-blown snowball fight broke out, one where it was every person for him or herself. 

They came in almost an hour later, frozen to the bone and soaking wet. After taking very quick turns in the shower and changing clothes, they all settled in front of the television. Naomi rolled her eyes as the others were sucked into the various football games on the tube. She couldn't help laughing at the sight of three grown men, all respected in their various fields, yelling at the screen like idiots as they armchair-quarterbacked the pro games. 

Everyone pitched in for the last of the dinner preparations. Jim was surprised to find that Blair and Naomi had, for the most part anyway, stuck to traditional Christmas dishes; turkey, stuffing, yams, mashed potatoes, the works. Of course, it wouldn't have been a Sandburg meal if there wasn't a unrecognizable dish or two. Jim's jaw just about hit the table when Steven took second helpings of an Indonesian dish that Blair prepared, until he remembered that his little brother did a lot of traveling throughout the Pacific rim. 

They spent the rest of the night listening to holiday music as they settled into the living room, exhausted from a combination of the busy day and turkey-enzyme-induced lethargy. There was a layer of snow and ice on the road, so his brother decided to once again stay the night. With Naomi already asleep, and Steven in the bathroom getting ready for bed, Jim and Blair were left alone in the living room. The younger man was sitting in front of the fireplace, staring unfocused into the flames with a small smile of contentment on his face. 

Blair must have felt his Sentinel's eyes on him, because he spoke quietly without turning around. "Thanks, Jim." 

"For what, Chief?" Jim asked, honestly puzzled. 

There was a short pause while the younger man tried to put his feelings into words. A small shake of his head told the detective that Blair was unsuccessful at gathering his thoughts. "For...everything. For today, for yesterday, for the past two and half years." 

A warm feeling encompassed the detective as he stared at his roommate's back. "Chief, I..." he trailed off as Blair's head shook again. Slowly, the younger man rose and moved to stand directly in front of him. 

They stood there awkwardly for endless seconds. Pale blue eyes met turquoise as they both searched for the right thing to say at a time like this. It was Blair who broke the silence. "Merry Christmas, Jim," he said with the most tender smile Jim could ever recall gracing his face. 

The Sentinel gave in to his impulse and pulled the younger man in for a hug. Jim couldn't remember another Christmas as enjoyable as this one. Without Blair's help over the past few years, he probably wouldn't even be alive, let alone more relaxed, happy with his life, and reconciled with his brother. He owed this man everything. 

Merry Christmas, Blair," he replied and held on a little tighter. 

* * *

The trilling of the cordless phone brought Jim back to the present. As he crossed the living room, the detective hazarded a glance at the clock on the VCR. He was going to have to haul ass if he wanted to be on time to meet Steven. 

Thumbing the button, he spoke as he headed upstairs to lay out a change of clothing. "Ellison." 

"Hey Jim," came the hesitant voice. 

"Sandburg? What's up, Chief?" Jim asked somewhat nervously. There was something in Blair's tone that didn't set well with the Sentinel. From all the noise in the background, Jim knew that his Guide must be at the airport. He found himself praying that nothing was wrong. 

"Um, Jim, I don't know how to tell you this..." 

"Don't say it, Sandburg," Jim growled in warning, as his heart fell rapidly to somewhere in his lower abdomen. 

"It's not my fault, man, I swear to God! I swear to every god! I got here two hours early, y'know? Just to be on the safe side! Two fucking hours, and they tell me that the flight was overbooked! I've been sitting here with a stand-by ticket in my hand, going to every damned counter, and not one airline has anything, and I do mean any possible connection," he paused, gasping for breath. 

By the amount of agitation in his voice, the Sentinel knew that Blair was not only upset about the situation, but also at the end of his patience. "Okay, Blair, calm down. I'm sure that they'll be able to find another flight for you..." 

"Haven't you seen the news yet? Turn on CNN, man." Blair waited until Jim got the remote and turned to the right channel. On the screen was a damaged airplane sitting on a runway, and the caption beneath the picture identified the airport as Washington DC's Dulles. "That's the problem, Jim. That plane had a bad landing a couple of hours ago. They're trying their best to handle the traffic on the other runways, but they're still having to reroute flights out of National and a couple of other airports. Richmond is only a couple of hours drive from Washington, and a lot of people are coming through here now." 

Sighing in frustration, Jim felt an odd sense of deja vu, only last time he had been the one scrambling for a flight to get to Blair. "I don't know what to tell you, Chief. It shouldn't take too long for them to clear that runway at Dulles, though." 

"Even if they do clear it, there are still a ton of flights that have been delayed or cancelled, man. This sucks! Wait a sec, Jim." The Sentinel focused his attention on the conversation between his Guide and a woman, who he guessed was a reservationist. "Did you hear that, Jim? She might have something going to Denver later, no connecting flight, though. Look man, I have to go, but I'll call you back as soon as I know anything definite, okay?" 

Hope flared in the detective for the first time since he picked up the phone. "I'll be on the cell all night. And Chief, take any flight you can get, 'kay? I mean anywhere; Seattle, Portland, hell, Vancouver is only a seven hour drive. It doesn't matter where, I'll come get you." 

Blair must have heard the steel determination in his voice, because the younger man's only response was spoken calmly and quietly. "Thanks Jim. I'll be there as soon as I can." 

"I know you will, Blair." 

* * *

December 23rd 7:55 PM 

//Friends and relations send salutations  
Just as sure as the stars shine above// 

By the time Jim reached the restaurant, he was already twenty minutes late. He felt somewhat foolish carrying in the large, brightly wrapped box, but it couldn't be helped. The past week had been so busy for both Ellisons that they had barely been able to find a single night where they could share a simple dinner out. 

Taking a minute to check his heavy coat, Jim moved forward to the maitre'd's station and quickly scanned the dimly lit dining room. The Sentinel easily spotted his younger brother at a small table by the front windows. With a shake of his head at the tuxedo clad host, Jim made his way towards Steven. 

Surprisingly, the younger Ellison was casually dressed in wool slacks, sweater, and a sports coat rather than his normal expensive designer suit. Steven smiled as he saw his brother approaching, and Jim did his honest best to put a cheerful expression on his face. 'The happy face must need a little work,' the detective thought to himself as the younger man's grin faded slightly into a look of concern. 

"Hey Jim. Is something wrong? I was worried when you were late," Steven inquired. 

A huge sigh escaped as Jim found his seat. In order to buy a few seconds of time to compose his thoughts, the Sentinel leaned over and set the present he was holding in the windowsill. Once the action was completed, he steeled his courage and spoke softly. "There was a problem with Sandburg's ticket. They overbooked the flight, and well, when the music stopped he was left without a chair." 

The look of sorrowful compassion on Steven's face meant the world to the Sentinel. His brother knew how much Jim had been looking forward to Blair's visit. "Oh Jim, I'm so sorry," Steven said softly. "But I wouldn't worry just yet. They always overbook flights at this time of year. I'm sure that they'll put him on a later flight, if not tonight, then tomorrow. Besides, if he's smart, he'll raise a hell of a stink about getting bumped. If you scream loud enough when that happens, the airlines will usually compensate with a free ticket." 

Jim knew that Steven was doing his best to cheer him up, and he appreciated the effort. "It's not that simple, Steven. I don't know if you heard or not yet, but they had a plane make an emergency landing at Dulles, and it closed off one of the runways. They're working as fast as they can, but it's caused a hell of a lot of problems. The airlines are rerouting what they can, but the long and the short of it is basically Sandburg is screwed." 

"Come on, Jim. A little optimism here. This is Blair we're talking about..." 

"My point exactly! Jesus, doesn't anything ever go smoothly for him?" Jim interrupted with a burst of emotion. The detective's frustration was plainly evident not only on his face, but his tone as well. 

Steven rolled his eyes, as if seeking divine intervention for patience. "No, what I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted," he said with a grin to take the sting out of his exasperated tone, "was that even though Blair seems to get into trouble easily, he has more luck than anyone I've ever seen when it comes to getting out of it." 

Jim couldn't help but chuckle at the truth in the comment. Despite himself, the Sentinel relaxed just a little. Blair said earlier that he would call back when he knew anything more definite about possible flights. Until he called, there was nothing Jim could do to change the situation. Besides, it wasn't fair to take his frustration out on Steven. 

"Alright. I'll try not to worry until there's something to worry about," Jim said with a forced smile. "So, are you all set for Vermont?" His younger brother was headed out to a ski lodge to share the holiday with a group of close friends. With the exception of last year, Steven always spent his Christmases and New Year's in New England hitting the slopes. The Sentinel had been surprised a few weeks ago when his younger brother had somewhat shyly asked if it would upset Jim if he went away again this year. Although the detective was a little disappointed that Steven didn't want to spend the holidays with him, for the most part Jim was ecstatic that he would have an entire week alone with Blair. 

When that particular memory came up, so did the hurt that had been with the Sentinel since his Guide called an hour ago. It took a Herculean effort to drive back the depressing thoughts that were rapidly encroaching on him, but by sheer force of will, Jim managed to keep his concentration on the conversation as they ordered and ate. By the time they ordered dessert, the detective realized that he was enjoying the meal in spite of himself. 

Both Ellisons stopped talking as the waiter poured coffee into their waiting cups. When he departed, Steven leaned down and produced a large shopping bag from somewhere under the table. In an attempt at levity, the younger man made a production out of pulling two of the three festively wrapped boxes from the bag; and with a flourish, he presented the larger package to his brother. "Open this one first." 

In order to make a little room on the table, the detective moved both his coffee and dessert plate out of the way. Jim watched Steven stifle a laugh as he meticulously and carefully unwrapped the gift by running his fingers under the seams of the paper. The box bore the logo of one of the more upscale men's shops in the mall, one that Jim couldn't afford to shop at frequently on a detective's salary. Inside, the Sentinel found a beautiful wool sweater in a soothing cream color. "This is great, Steven. Thank you," Jim exclaimed as he held the garment up to get a better look at it. The soft texture of the fabric felt exquisite to his enhanced sense of touch, and the style was exactly what he liked. 

"You're welcome, but you're not done yet. Here," Steven said as he handed the smaller box to his brother to unwrap. Like the first package, the Sentinel took his time opening it. "Steven?" Jim asked hesitantly as he opened the brochures the box contained. 

"I know you said you didn't mind, but I felt bad about going away for the holidays this year," Steven explained, holding up a hand to forestall the protest he knew his brother would make at the last comment. "Anyway, I booked a vacation for us this summer; you, me, and Blair. It's a week in a cabin outside of Aspen. I heard from a friend of mine that they've got everything there \-- fishing, hiking, canoeing -- whatever you feel like doing. Everything is included; tickets, food, supplies, and transportation once we're there." 

Jim's jaw hung open in amazement. "Steven...this is...this is too much," the detective said uncomfortably. 

Shaking his head in disagreement, the younger Ellison braced himself for the battle he knew was coming. "Jim, listen to me. Please," he added when his brother tried to interrupt. "I know what you're thinking, but please let me do this. It's important to me. Having you back in my life after so many years...well, it's something that I never thought would happen, you know? I wanted to do something where we could get away from it all, spend some real quality time together." 

The impassioned plea from his younger brother hit home with Jim. It had been over twenty years since they had taken more than a weekend camping trip together; and truth be told, the detective found himself genuinely looking forward to spending the time with Steven. As he looked back down at the brochure, his brother's words came back to him, causing his head to shoot up in surprise. "Wait a minute, did you say this trip was for you, me, and Blair?" he asked cautiously. 

Nodding his head, Steven answered. "Yes. I booked the trip in late May, when Blair is between semesters. I hope that's alright. I mean, I assumed that it would be alright with you. Unless you don't want him to come with us," he finished with a cryptic look the detective couldn't decipher. 

Jim was visibly stunned that Steven wanted to include his Guide. He knew that the two of them had become good friends over the past two years, but he had no idea that Steven was that close to the anthropologist. His brother's generosity, not only in paying for the expensive vacation, but also his graciousness in including Blair, left Jim speechless for a few moments. When he finally spoke, the words were clearly from his heart. "God, Steven...thank you. I don't think anyone has ever done something like this for me before." 

Mentally shaking himself to clear his thoughts, Jim reached for his own present to Steven that was resting on the windowsill. It couldn't compete with a trip to Aspen, but he hoped that his brother would like it. "Here you go. It's not a vacation..." 

"Shut up, Jim," Steven teased good naturally as he tore through the wrapping paper like a six year old. Inside the box was a new embroidered Jags sweatshirt, and a plain white envelope resting on top of the garment that obscured part of the logo. With a puzzled look, Steven opened it. Jim took great pleasure in the surprise and joy that graced his brother's face as he examined the ticket in his hand. "Jags vs. the Bulls? Courtside?!? Jim, how in the hell did you get these? My company couldn't even get these, and they've got a stake in the team!" 

If Steven expected any answers, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Being a cop did have it's benefits every now and then. Two months ago, Jim and Ryf had been 'loaned out' to Vice, who was desperately in need of fresh faces to break up a ticket scalping ring. And best of all, Jim wasn't guilty of breaking any laws since he had paid the scalper the face value of the ticket. It was hardly Jim's fault that the man assumed he wouldn't be arrested if he agreed to the transaction. 

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Jim removed the ticket for the seat next to Steven's. "I hope you don't mind sitting next to your big brother," he said with a grin, but the smile faded as he continued. "You remember how Dad always bought just two season tickets, so one of us would have to stay home for each game? Well, I just thought it might be nice if we got to go together for a change." 

Tears welled up in Steven's eyes as he heard the sentiment behind Jim's gift. Their father had done so many hurtful things to them as children, and only now, almost twenty years later, were they able to start repairing the damage. "Thanks, Jim. This is...well, I guess it's my turn to be speechless." 

With a wry grin, Jim couldn't help but tease. "Well, in that case, I think it was well worth it." 

Laughing as he wiped the last of the excess moisture from his eyes, Steven replied. "You're killing me here." 

Before Jim could respond, the maitre'd approached their table. "Excuse me, Mr. Ellison?" Jim and Steven shared a grin, but refrained from making the expected 'which one?' comment. At Steven's nod, the man continued. "I'm sorry, but your car is here, sir." 

With a quick thank you, the younger man asked for the check. After several previous dinners that ended with the inevitable argument over who would get to pay, the brothers finally settled into a system that allowed both of them to keep their pride; whoever chose the restaurant picked up the check. As it was Steven's turn this time, it was his American Express Platinum card that was tucked into the leather tab cover. Once everything was taken care of, the two men stopped at the coat room to pick up their jackets before heading outside. 

From the confines of his thick pockets, Jim heard the muffled sound of his cell phone ringing. The conversation with Blair was short and sweet. There was no change in his situation, and from the looks of things, there wouldn't be any in the near future. The elation the Sentinel was feeling after exchanging presents with his brother was quickly swept away by gloomy thoughts of spending the holidays alone. Encouraging his Guide not to give up, Jim said goodbye and hung up the phone. 

The concerned expression came back to Steven's face as he listened in on Jim's side of the conversation. The limo that was taking him to the airport was right in front of them. "Listen, Jim, it's not too late for me to change my plans." 

With a grateful smile, Jim shook his head. "Thanks, Steven, but no. Don't worry, he'll find a way to get here." 

Steven was still not convinced, but he acquiesced to his brother's wishes. "I think I'll leave this with you anyway," he said as he handed over the shopping bag that contained Blair's present. "You know, you never did mention how you managed to get those tickets." 

There was a smile on Jim's face as he replied. "No, I didn't, did I." 

Instinctively, Steven knew that he had better chances of getting blood from a stone than he did making Jim talk, so he dropped the subject. "Merry Christmas, Jim" he said as he embraced his older brother. 

"Merry Christmas. Safe trip, okay?" 

With an extra squeeze, Jim let go and made his way over to his truck. He waited until the limo drove off, with Steven waving at him from the back. With a wave of his own, Jim unlocked the door and headed for home. 

* * *

'Damn it all to hell,' Steven thought as he waved at his brother. He was well aware of how important this trip was to both Blair and Jim. Four months ago, the anthropologist confessed to him about sleeping with Jim the night before he left Cascade. Although Steven was stunned when he first learned about it, the more he thought he gave the matter, the less surprised he was. For some inescapable reason, it just seemed right for Jim and Blair to be together in all things, and that included being lovers. 

Steven never regretted being the person Blair had chosen to confide in. Sometimes, though, having the knowledge could be frustrating, especially since the anthropologist forbade him to discuss the matter with Jim. For the past four months, Steven could do nothing but watch from a distance as his brother struggled to come to grips with the situation. He really wanted to have the freedom to try and help Jim, and had asked Blair several times for permission to be able to discuss the matter. The younger man understood why Steven kept asking, but still insisted that he keep the confidence for the time being. That request for silence effectively tied Steven's hands in the matter. 

'And they were so close. Jim finally accepts it, and now this,' Steven fumed with frustration. He had gambled that Jim and Blair would officially be a 'couple' after seeing each other this week. In fact, that was the major reason he had included Blair in the Aspen trip in May. Steven didn't bother to point out to Jim that the cabin only had two bedrooms, and that thought alone brought a sly grin to his face. 

'Oh well,' he sighed heavily and closed his eyes to picture the ski slopes of Vermont. The pale blue eyes shot open suddenly, and with a determined look on his face, Steven reached for the carry-on that was on the seat across from him. From it's depths, he pulled his organizer. Flipping through the pages as he reached for the car phone, Steven finally found the number he was looking for and dialed. The conversation didn't take long. 

"...okay? And after that? Okay, that's great thank you." 

The corporate Lear jet was looming in the distance as Steven rushed to find the second number that he needed. It took less than three minutes to complete the call. 

Twenty minutes later, Steven was enjoying a glass of brandy, the sole passenger on the plane as it took off from the private airfield. In his hand was the Jags ticket that Jim had given him earlier, and on his face was a smile that could have lit up half of Cascade. 

* * *

December 24th 5:30 am 

It was a rare sight to see the majority of the Major Crimes team assembled at the same time. Unlike other divisions, Simon's unit was comprised of the best of the best that the Cascade PD had to offer. Most of his teams operated with a certain degree of autonomy; working on investigations with something of a free-hand, unless a group effort was needed for stakeouts, task forces, and the like. 

The holiday season was usually not the busiest time of year for the division. While other units, such as Burglary and Vice, seemed to pick up; the only large case they were working right now was the car-jackings. Due to the publicity and the timing of the crimes, the Mayor and the Chief of Police continued to pressure Simon to do whatever it took to crack this case before Christmas was over and the gang faded into the woodwork for another year. 

For that reason alone, Simon decided to throw all of his available manpower into the parking lot surveillance on Christmas Eve. Borrowing personnel from practically every unit in the Cascade PD, Simon called for an organizational meeting at 7:30am. He also requested that his own people be in an hour and a half earlier to finalize the plans, since they would be in charge of the additional officers in the field. 

Most of the men and women were not really pleased to be dragged out of their beds so early on Christmas Eve. Rhonda had brought in her own percolator from home to insure that there would be plenty of coffee for the semi-conscious cops that were shuffling through the door. In addition to the caffine-ladened cups she was handing out, Rhonda quietly dispensed some important advice. 

"Sandburg got bumped off his flight. Watch yourself around Ellison today." 

The simple words did more to wake-up the sleepy detectives than the coffee. Simon couldn't help but stifle a grin as he watched his people's eyes bug out in shock and fear when they heard the news. It didn't surprise him to see actual disappointment in the faces of those who knew the kid well; but even those who didn't know Sandburg were aware of the anthropologist's legendary partnership with Ellison, and realized the kind of mood the detective would be in after hearing that his former partner wouldn't be home for the holidays. 

Simon couldn't fault his people for being fearful of Jim's temper today. Hell, he hadn't been in the best of moods himself since Ellison had called to inform him that Blair would once again be unable to make it back to Cascade. Although he'd rather have his teeth pulled out with pliers than admit it aloud, Simon had grown to admire and respect the anthropologist; not to mention consider him a good friend. 

The hardest part had been informing Darryl that Blair would not be coming. The bond between his son and the then grad student had begun in the Peruvian jungle and only continued to grow over the years that had followed. Maybe it was Blair's age, but Darryl always seemed to be more comfortable with the young professor than Simon or Jim. 

When his son began having difficulties at school three years ago, Blair managed to clear time in his already impossibly full schedule to tutor the teenager. The way Sandburg was able to once again make learning interesting for Darryl not only spoke volumes of the grad student's ability as a teacher, but also raised him to a completely new level of respect with Simon. 

It was Blair who managed to uncover Darryl's biggest secret last year. The younger Banks possessed an amazing singing voice, but was afraid that if his parents knew of his talents, they would try to force him into the school chorus. Although Simon wasn't able to jump the generation language barrier, he was able to decipher that being seen with 'those choir dweebs' at school would destroy his son's 'hep' image. Again, it was Blair who found the solution to the problem, one that worked for both father and son. Darryl was able to thrive in the Holy Redeemer church choir, and not one of his friends from school gave him any grief about singing with them. 

Shaking off the memories, Simon looked up at the clock. 5:55. Jim Ellison was the last of his detectives to wander through the office doors, looking as though he was experiencing a walking zone out. It didn't take twenty-odd years of police experience to read the Sentinel's facial expression and determine that Sandburg still wasn't able to find a flight. Despite the sympathy he felt for his shell-shocked friend, they had a job to do. Simon walked out into the bullpen and gathered his staff around. 

"Good morning, people. I know that none of us are especially thrilled to be here so damned early, but the sooner we catch these guys, the sooner we can all go home to our families," Simon said in a voice that was a little too loud at six in the morning. 

Sparing a glance at Ellison, the Captain was not surprised to see the detective's attention wandering. The Sentinel cocked his head to the side, a habit he had when he was using his senses to detect something. Simon was about to ask if anything was amiss, when Jim saved him the trouble. 

"Am I going crazy, or do I smell food?" the Sentinel inquired. Before he could finish the statement, two teenaged boys ladened down with two enormous thermal-lined boxes walked through the door labeled Major Crimes. The scent of bacon and eggs wafted out from the packages in their arms. 

"Um, we're looking for Captain Banks or Detective Ellison, Major Crimes unit?" One of the boys asked warily. 

In a sheer act of physical will, Simon stopped himself from salivating at the tempting aroma that rose from the boxes. All traces of annoyance that he normally would have felt at such an intrusion into an important meeting were knocked down by the tantalizing scents that were causing his empty stomach to grumble in hope and anticipation. A quick glance at his men and women told him that he wasn't the only one in the room who had forsaken breakfast in favor of an extra fifteen minutes of sleep. 

Returning his attention to the two anxious boys in front of him, Simon spoke. "I'm Captain Banks. Can I help you?" 'Oh please God, let that be for us,' he begged silently. 

"Yeah, we have an order for you. Where do you want us to put it?" the kid asked in a hurry. Some of the detectives were already clearing space from their desks to make room for the food. Brown and Ryf quickly relieved the delivery boys of their burdens, almost as if in fear the feast they carried would somehow magically disappear without immediate attention. 

Before the two detectives could open the boxes, a painful memory flashed through Simon's mind, one of a dusted Sandburg standing on a car in the garage shooting at imaginary targets. 'What if this is a similar trick, maybe those carjackers...' he let the thought trail off. Speaking aloud with suspicion clearly evident in his tone, Simon said "Just where did this come from?" 

Both of the boys jumped at the booming voice. "We're from Lucinda's, she told us to deliver this before six, but we had a flat on the way over." As if to confirm his words, the taller of the two unzipped his heavy parka. The logo from Lucinda's Diner was visible on his sweatshirt. 

Lucinda was one half of a mom and pop team that ran a local diner. The restaurant was a favorite of most of the police force, as it specialized in home styled foods and was open 24 hours a day. Despite the typical grease-laden menu that the name 'diner' implied, the food was actually very good, and healthy enough for even Sandburg to tolerate. Lucinda and her husband were very fond of Blair and Jim, as they had stopped an attempted hold-up they stumbled across one night when they came in for a quick bite to eat. 

Belatedly, the kid reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a note and handed it to the Captain. He was clearly uncomfortable under Simon's intense scrutiny, so he grabbed the other kid by the arm and mumbled to no one in particular that they would be back in a moment with the rest of the order. Unfolding the glossy grease and flour stained paper, the Captain's eyes bugged out at the sight of the handwriting of the fax. He read it through once to himself before grinning and saying the words aloud. 

"Hi guys, Sorry I couldn't be there, but I thought you all might be in need of some sustenance before going out and catching bad guys. Good luck today and Merry Christmas. Blair (AKA Sandburg, Professor, Hair-boy, Chief, Darwin, and Kemo Sabe)" 

A rumble and muffled whoops of happiness passed through the people gathered in the office. Simon's eyes sought out Jim immediately. The Sentinel had a grin on his face, but knowing him as well as he did, the Captain could easily see that the smile didn't reach his pain-filled eyes. In fact, the detective's tell-tale clenched jaw was causing the muscles of his cheeks to jump rapidly. 

The delivery boys came in with two more thermal boxes, as well as a bag of paper plates, condiments, and utensils. They helped Ryf and Brown spread out the feast of everything from scrambled eggs to French toast to doughnuts to muffins. 'This spread must have cost the kid a fortune. Just how much are they paying associate professors these days?' Simon thought to himself as he watched his people dig into the mountain of food on the two desks. 

After accepting a hastily gathered tip, the teenagers tore out of the Major Crimes office. Someone commented that they were probably afraid of being mistaken as edible by the ravenous crowd of cops acting as though food was going to be outlawed in the next fifteen minutes. Looking around at his team, Simon couldn't help but notice that everyone was more alert and relaxed than they had been at the office Christmas party two days earlier. 

Simon was about to try and get his people's attention to get back to business, but the sight of Jim slipping otherwise unnoticed out the frosted glass doors stopped him. Forgetting momentarily about the case briefing, not to mention the starving hoard of officers, he followed his best detective into the bathroom. Jim was leaning over the sink, wiping cold water over his face. 

"Not now, Simon," Jim said with no preamble. 

The Captain was momentarily taken aback, until he remembered Jim's enhanced senses. The Sentinel probably knew Simon was coming the minute he left Major Crimes, let alone when he opened the bathroom. It was obvious to the older man that his friend was more hurt than he was willing to admit. 

Simon never tried to understand the friendship that Jim and Blair shared, it was pointless; he only knew that their relationship was closer than most marriages he'd ever seen, including Jim's to Carolyn. In fact, if he didn't know that Jim Ellison was totally heterosexual, he might have suspected that there was more to their relationship than met the eye. Not that he didn't believe Sandburg was willing to do a little fence jumping now and then, even though there was no proof to substantiate the theory. 

Regardless of the nature of their relationship, Jim had been devastated by the younger man's departure. Simon could do nothing but watch his friend retreat into himself somewhat, losing some of relaxed attitude he'd managed to cultivated with Blair's help over the past four years. The return of the more reserved behavior was accompanied by depression and a constant stream of zone outs that was so debilitating, it left Simon with no choice but to put Jim on desk duty until he regained some semblance of control over his senses. It took some time, but the Sentinel finally managed to lose the gaunt, haunted look that he had sported since the weeks before Sandburg's departure. 

Now, as he looked at his detective, that same pained expression was back. "Look, Jim, I know you were really looking forward to seeing the kid again. You get your new vacation days as soon as the New Year begins. Your case load should be light after this carjacking thing is wrapped up. Why don't you take a week and fly out to see him," Simon suggested. 

"That's a good idea, Sir," Jim said. 'But it doesn't change the fact that he won't be here for Christmas,' he added mentally. The simple truth of the matter that although he would be overjoyed to see his Guide at any point time, having him home for the holidays was even more special. It was like going into a donut shop expecting a double-dipped chocolate boston-creme donut and coming out with a bran muffin instead. The thought almost put a smile on Jim's face. 

Simon picked up the non-verbal cue in the formality of the statement. Jim either wasn't ready or willing to discuss the matter any further. By the look on his face, Simon correctly assumed that it was all the detective could do to maintain the wall that was holding back the tidal wave of emotions that were swirling within him. Not knowing what else to do, the Captain placed a hand on the smaller man's shoulder a gave it a reassuring squeeze before walking back to the bullpen. 

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jim opened the bathroom door and rejoined the others. 

* * *

December 24th 9:10 PM 

//This is Christmas, Christmas my dear  
The time of year to be with the one that you love.// 

For the hundredth time that evening, Jim wondered exactly what he was doing at Simon's house. The party was already in full swing, almost all of the Major Crimes staff was here, celebrating like the world was going to end tomorrow. Because of the stressful nature of their jobs, cops tended to party hard. That feeling was doubled by the holiday spirit, than tripled by the euphoria of this afternoon's bust. 

It had been Jim's Sentinel abilities that cracked the case that afternoon. While riding around in the parking lot, the detective heard the latest victim scream when the one of the carjackers pulled a gun on her. They managed to catch the gunman in the act, and after several grueling hours of interrogation and threats of revoking his parole, Ryf and Jim were able to get the suspect to roll over on the rest of the gang. 

Although Jim was happy the case was finally closed, he really wasn't in the mood to celebrate. In fact, he was downright miserable. For the past four hours, the Sentinel had futilely been attempting to call his Guide, only to hear that 'the cellular customer he was attempting to reach was unavailable.' The battery in Blair's phone had probably given out, leaving the detective no way to reach him. After the briefing that morning, Simon reminded everyone about his annual Christmas Eve party, not that anyone had actually forgotten. Any hopes Jim entertained about ducking out early were dashed when his Captain personally pulled him aside and informed him how excited Darryl was about his solo at midnight mass. 

Jim and Blair both promised that they would be in attendance for the younger Banks' big night, and the kid was going to be upset enough that Sandburg wouldn't be there. It wasn't as though listening to Darryl sing was an unwanted obligation. In fact, Jim was both touched and honored when the younger man called personally last month to ask that he attend; but the fact that he was supposed to have been there with Blair took most of the joy out of the prospect. It was the same for Simon's party. 

There seemed to be a conspiracy among his co-workers to use any and every means to make the stoic detective enjoy himself. Each and every person in attendance made sure to speak to him at some point in the evening, but not one person mentioned Sandburg. The constant omissions did not go unnoticed by the Sentinel, in fact it only made him more painfully aware of Blair's absence. Jim couldn't help but remember Simon's party last year, and how his Guide had been the center of attention that night. 

* * *

It had all started at the official department Christmas party. Like many offices around the country, Major Crimes did Secret Santas. The idea was that everybody drew a single name out of the bag and bought a gift for just that person. With a $25 price limit, it was the perfect solution to the problems of limited time for shopping as well as the limited budgets that most police officers faced. 

The actual gift exchange usually took place at the office party on December 23rd. Jim was called into Simon's office right before the festivities began. The Sentinel emerged from the meeting to find a rather large professionally wrapped box on his desk with nobody nearby to claim responsibility. Jim patiently watched most of other staff members open their presents while waiting for his Secret Santa to come forward. He laughed at the gag gifts that were given, like the dog leash that Brown gave to Sandburg -- 'makes it easier for us to keep track of you,' Brown quipped; and smiled at the thoughtfulness behind some of the more useful presents, like the smoke-eating ashtray that Rhonda bought for Simon. 

Finally, the Sentinel's unopened present was the only one that remained. Urged on by the calls of his fellow officers, Jim reached for the large box. A feeling of dread overcame the detective as he noticed the poorly hidden grins and stifled laughter of those in the room. Cautiously moving his fingers through the cellophane tape, Jim decided to have a little fun of his own by dragging out the moment, eliciting a resounding chorus of impatient 'hurry up, Ellison' calls. Jim carefully peered into the open box. There, amid a sea of red tissue paper was a two yard strip of Velcro. Puzzled by the gift, Jim dug further into the tissue paper to discover boxing headgear. Attached by a strip of red curling ribbon to one of the ear protectors was a typed note. 

'Jim, With your tendency for head injuries and your habit of dropping your gun during arrests, I thought these might come in useful. Your Secret Santa.' 

The embarrassment Jim felt was enough to make him turn red. At the sight of the flush, the entire office burst into laughter. When the detective reread the note once more, he knew instantly who his Secret Santa was. 

"Sandburg!" Jim bellowed in mock anger. Near doubled over with laughter, Blair followed his part in the unwritten script and made a mad dash for Simon's office as Jim started to move towards him. The Sentinel caught his Guide by the scruff of the neck, and held the smaller man in place. Wearing his best poker face, Jim attempted to play the 'angry Neanderthal' role, but he knew that Blair could easily see the genuine amusement that kept breaking through his normally impenetrable mask. 

"Oh, hey, Jim. What's up, man?" Blair asked in a conversational tone of voice. He couldn't, however, keep the twinkle out of his eyes, nor could he keep the laughter out of his voice as he innocently asked, "You want me to show you how to put that Velcro on your hand? You're a rightie, aren't you?" 

The simple question was enough to break the normally stoic Sentinel. Laughing heartily, Jim adjusted his grip and pulled the younger man into a very loose, very masculine, back-pounding-type embrace. "You know you are going to pay for that, don't you, Chief?" Jim asked in a tone loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. 

"Not as much as you're going to be," Blair answered before he moved away. 

His Guide's words were prophetic. The gag gift and Jim's reaction to it were the hottest topics of conversation at Simon's the following night. Everyone was congratulating the observer on his ability to 'get a good one on Ellison,' and Blair was basking in the glory. Just the sight of the exuberance that practically poured from the younger man was enough to make the Sentinel smile, happy that Blair had finally been truly accepted by his co-workers. 

* * *

It wasn't a bad party this year. Maybe it was still too early in the evening for the more riotous behavior to come out, or maybe it was the subdued way people acted around him tonight, or maybe it was just him. Everyone else seemed to be having a blast, yet the normal infectious nature of party spirit was unable to reach Jim. 

A hand on his arm, brought Jim out of his revelry. "Ellison, can we borrow you for a minute?" Ray Brown inquired. The younger detective stood with one arm wrapped around his wife, Karen. They had met each other at Blair's graduation party, and married a few short months later. 

Joining Ryf and Simon, who had already been summoned by the couple, Jim walked to the corner of the living room. "What's up?" he asked. 

Barely able to contain his excitement, Brown stumbled through his answer. "Well, we, um, we wanted you all to hear it first, Karen's pregnant." 

All three men began offering their congratulations at the same time, delicately hugging Karen and back pounding bear hugs for Ray. Simon's question about the due date was interrupted by the doorbell. Excusing himself, the Captain began weaving through the crowded living room to the door on the far side of the room. 

"I'm due in May," Karen answered anyway. 

Smiling at the happy news, an idea struck Jim. Almost shyly, the Sentinel asked if he could touch Karen's abdomen. Although she was somewhat puzzled by the request, Karen was too giddy with happiness to refuse. Leaning forward slightly, Jim gently rested his fingers on the still-flat plane just below the stomach of the mother-to-be. Reaching out with his enhanced senses, the Sentinel used both hearing and touch to find the signs of life nestled within Karen's womb. With his head angled downwards, Ray and Karen missed the look of sheer wonder that crossed Jim's face. Piggybacking the two senses, he could not only hear the rapid heartbeat, but he could also sense exactly where the sound was originating from. Fascinated by this new aspect of his abilities, Jim didn't even notice that he was loosing touch with everything around himself. 

It took Ryf a second to figure out what his partner was doing, but as soon as he saw the zone out beginning, he quickly put his hand on Ellison's arm and squeezed tightly. The sharp pain brought Jim back into reality, leaving him disoriented for a moment. The queasy feeling was quickly forgotten as everyone in the room started speaking at once, overwhelming his sensitive hearing. 

* * *

The doorbell rang again as Simon fought his way through the crowd in his living room. His colleagues were so wrapped up in their conversations that not one of them made a move to answer the door, something that irked the Captain. By the time he reached his destination, he was miffed enough not to bother looking through the peephole. Although most of the staff who had RSVP'ed were actually in attendance, there were still a few no-shows. 

Somewhere behind him, Simon heard several people burst into laughter. Swinging his head around to find the source of the merriment, the Captain pulled the door open, shivering slightly at the rush of cold air that blasted it's way inside. It was a moment before he turned his attention back to the latest arrival to the party. 

Simon's eyes grew impossibly large as he openly stared at the person in his doorway. Speechless, he took in the small, sturdy figure, wrapped in a sub-zero weather parka. The bright blue scarf that covered the nose and mouth brought out the deep smoky blue of the eyes that couldn't contain the younger man's happy excitement. A gloved hand reached up and pulled down the cloth that concealed the pouting lips. 

A thousand watt smile crossed Blair's face as he took in the almost comical stunned expression on the older man's face. "Merry Christmas, Simon." 

Shaking off the surprise he felt at the sight of the man in front of him, Simon couldn't help the deep joyful laughter that welled up within him. Fueled by the dazzling smile on Blair's face, the Captain shouted out, "Sandburg!" and pulled his former observer into a hug of colossal proportions. The younger man started laughing as his feet left the ground, elated by Simon's highly unusual, not to mention emotional, greeting. 

The sound of their Captain shouting out Blair's name over the loud holiday music was enough to attract the attention of most of the party-goers. Heads turned and necks craned to see what had caused such an outburst from their Captain on Christmas Eve. The sight of the anthropologist was enough to raise a cheer among the guests, several of whom moved over to greet the unexpected visitor. 

Blair felt positively giddy at the sight of his old friends. Joel Taggert surged forward, and like Simon, pulled the smaller man into an enormous bear hug. When he found his feet again, Rhonda and Serena Baxter were taking turns to kiss his cold-reddened cheeks, chattering happily about his unexpected arrival. Blair smiled happily as he exchanged Christmas greetings with all three, but he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering around the room searching for the one man he just traveled 3,000 miles to see again. 

Finally, he spotted Jim in the far corner of the living room with Karen, Ray, and Brian Ryf. Just the sight of his Sentinel's back caused Blair's heartbeat to start racing as a wave of pure desire swept across his body. Jim had let his hair grow a few centimeters longer since he had last seen him. Under the form-hugging cream colored cashmere sweater, the anthropologist watched the firm muscles ripple as Jim shook his head. 

Joel, Rhonda, and Serena were completely forgotten as he watched his Sentinel turn around. Although he wasn't even aware of it, Blair's breathing picked up as blue eyes met blue eyes and locked. The music, the party, the people, everything else faded away as he moved slowly towards the man who managed to once again enchant him without even saying a word. 

* * *

Jim was still reeling from the effects of the zone out when his auditory sense was overcome by the loud cheers and laughter. The Sentinel had dialed up his hearing to catch the sound of the unborn baby's heartbeat, but he didn't have time to mentally adjust the level back to normal before he was overwhelmed. It took a few seconds to control and dismiss the pain. With an abrupt shake of his head, Jim turned around to see what the cause of the outburst had been. Scanning quickly around the room, the Sentinel felt his heart skip a beat when his gaze reached the doorway. 

Blair. 

The sight of his Guide was enough to take his breath away. Nothing in Jim's life, not his rescue from the jungle, not his wedding day, not one single thing had ever filled him with as much joy as the sight of the beautiful man standing not twenty feet away from him. With his jaw hanging slackly, Jim's eyes found those of his Guide, and there wasn't a single force on the planet that could have dragged them away. 

It seemed to the detective that hundreds of stray thoughts were all competing for his immediate attention. 'Is this real? How did he get here? Where did he come from? Why didn't he call?' None of the myriad of questions was powerful enough to overcome the one word that drowned out all of the others. 'Blair.' 

The deep blue eyes, shone ever so brightly with merriment and a touch of mischief. It never occurred to Jim to try and meet Blair halfway. It wouldn't have mattered anyway since he was frozen in place, terrified that the slightest movement on his part would make the impossible vision before him disappear. 

Then suddenly, Blair was before him. 

Too lost in each other to pay attention to their surroundings, they never noticed that all movement and conversation in the room came to an abrupt end as every person in attendance turned their attention to the reunion that was about to happen. The only noise came from the CD player that kept on cranking out Christmas carols, unaware of the monumental event that was taking place. All eyes were focused on the two partners, who stood unmoving as they drank in the sight of each other. 

For months now, Jim had worried that when he finally did get to see Blair again, the younger man wouldn't be as attractive as the mental pictures in his memory. He was right. Nothing his imagination had created even came close to competing with the breathtaking beauty of the vision now standing before him. 

With a quick glance, the Sentinel made mental notes of the small changes in his Guide's appearance. Like Jim, Blair had let his hair grow out, leaving it longer than ever before. The auburn highlights that the summer sun always brought out had faded somewhat, leaving the younger man's long silky curls an almost uniform dark color. The summer tan that Blair had been sporting when he left was long gone as well. It looked as though the younger man was a few pounds lighter, if the tightened belt and slightly gathered waistband of his jeans were any indication. 

The one relative constant was Blair's eyes. The mercurial rich blue had always drawn Jim in, like a sailor to a Siren, and it was no different now. Emotions flitted through them at a rapid pace -- elation, joy, a touch of fear, happiness, a little uncertainty, and most importantly, love. Impossibly as it seemed, Blair's eyes began to shine a little brighter as a touch of moisture began to gather. Jim could only watch in fascination as the soft light in the room refracted the normal smoky blue color into a new shade, a vibrant azure that reminded him of the hue of the deepest ocean. Suddenly, Jim's vision began to blur slightly, causing a second of panic before the Sentinel realized that his own eyes were misting over as well. 

In reality, the number of actual seconds they stood there drinking in each other's presence could have been counted on a single hand; but to Jim and Blair, it felt as though an eternity had passed. In that moment, the bond that the Sentinel and Guide shared was instantly reaffirmed. This is where they both belonged, side by side, together in all things. 

It was impossible to say who moved first. With one mind, Jim and Blair threw simultaneously themselves into an embrace that was so moving to behold, the entire room erupted into cheers and applause. As Jim brought his arms up around the younger man, his eyes slowly closed so he could control the turmoiltuous emotions that were quickly overpowering him. After painful months of withdrawal, almost all his Sentinel senses were inundated by his Guide; the comforting heartbeat that was now racing out of control, the heady mix of shampoo, soap, and the simple scent that was just Blair, and the less familiar feel of the warm figure pressed so tightly to his own larger frame. 

When he later looked back on that moment, Jim was surprised to find that, despite the four months that he had lusted after his Guide, desire played absolutely no part in that embrace. It wasn't as though he had been worried about anybody discovering that he was in love with Blair; truth be told, he had completely forgotten that there was anybody else on the planet, let alone in the same room. Instead, Jim was too busy drinking in his Guide's presence to allow his thoughts to wander that far. 

Only when the detective's lungs protested from the lack of breathable air that Blair's fierce constricting grip was causing, did Jim loosen his own hold on the younger man. Blair must of been in the same predicament since he drew several deep breaths as he relaxed his arms ever so slightly. However, neither man was willing to let go of the other just yet. 

No longer oxygen deprived, Jim's brain slowly began to function again. He couldn't prevent himself from patting the firm back under his hands, not sure if the reassuring action was more for his own benefit or that of his Guide. When Blair whispered his name softly, the Sentinel could easily recognize the tenderness in the tone. For the first time in what seemed like hours, Jim attempted to speak. 

"Blair, how...I thought...when...," the detective stumbled. Fine, so maybe his overloaded brain wasn't quite with the program just yet. 

It didn't matter, though. As always, his Guide knew exactly what his Sentinel was trying to say. Much to Jim's disappointment, Blair started to pull back out of the embrace, but Jim wasn't ready to let go of the younger man. Apparently, Blair wasn't either. Although they stepped back to put a little distance between their bodies, both men latched on to each other's arms just above the elbow, forming an enclosed circle around the foot or so of space that separated them. The new position afforded each man the opportunity to gaze at the other. As Blair began to speak, Jim easily saw the twinkle of mischief in his Guide's eyes. 

"Who said there aren't any miracles these days?" he replied with a grin. 

Jim laughed and pulled the younger man in for another hug, this one much shorter than the last. As the moment passed, the noise level in the room was quickly on the rise again as people resumed talking amongst themselves again. As the two men pulled apart, the Sentinel realized just how he had greeted his Guide. 

All of the doubts and uncertainties he had been wrestling with for months came back to him in a rush. Turning up the mental dial on his audio sense, Jim used his enhanced hearing to randomly tune in on various conversations around the room. Some of the guests commented on how good it was to see Jim and Blair together again. Jealousy flared in the detective when he heard a few women discussing various ways to lure his Guide into their beds for the evening. Only when his scan of the room was completed without overhearing any accusatory comments on his relationship with Blair, did Jim allow himself to relax slightly and enjoy the elation that came from being reunited with the younger man. 

It wasn't long before Simon appeared at their sides with two fresh cups of eggnog. For once in his life, Blair was actually breaking a sweat during a Cascade winter, so he shrugged out of his heavy coat and scarf before he accepted the drink he was offered. They quickly settled back into their old habits, teasing each other good naturedly. 

Simon was only the first of many who came over to pay court to the anthropologist. At one point or another, every person in the room came by, exchanging pleasantries, catching up on current life events, introducing new spouses or significant others, or simply to thank Blair for the breakfast he had sent that morning. It amazed the detective how easily the younger man to fit back into this close-knit circle. It was almost as though he had never been away. 

Through the next hour and half, Jim never strayed away from Blair's side. The Sentinel reveled in every aspect of his Guide, watching him as closely, inhaling his scent deeply, touching him casually as often as he could manage. However, the most enjoyable part by far was listening to the sound of Blair's voice constantly underscored by the rhythmic beating of that familiar heartbeat. 

Jim's attentiveness was far from one sided. Blair made sure that Jim was an integral part of every conversation. The detective lost count of the number of times he felt the anthropologist's gaze on him. Whenever Jim would catch Blair's eyes, the younger man would grace him with a special smile, and as often as not, reach out and touch him on the arm. It was almost as though Blair was reassuring himself that Jim was actually nearby, and not some wishful figment of his imagination. 

The continual casual contact only inflamed the growing desire that the Sentinel had been, so far, able to keep in check. However, between the increasingly smoldering glances and the constant barrage on his senses caused by their close proximity, Jim was rapidly losing the willpower to maintain an air of normalcy between himself and his Guide. 

The Sentinel split his attention between the younger man and those around them. He watched and listened for any odd glances or whispered comments about their behavior. Jim knew that his fears were irrational, but he for some reason, he couldn't suppress them. As time passed, the detective realized that even if people did notice their behavior, either they refrained from commenting on it, or they simply expected it. With the realization came a feeling of freedom, allowing Jim to finally relax and focus completely on his Guide. 

Lost in his own thoughts, the Sentinel was momentarily deafened by his Guide's roaring whoop of happiness as Karen and Ray shared the news about their expected family addition. Standing somewhat off to the side of the trio, Jim looked on as Blair grabbed the mother-to-be in a fierce hug. The detective couldn't help but laugh as the younger man suddenly remembered why he was hugging Karen and released her as quickly as he had embraced her, all the while apologizing for the roughness of his actions. 

However, Blair's cautious, protective behavior around Karen, coupled with the younger man's delight at the news brought a joyful glow to his expressive face. In a surreal instant, the younger man turned to his Sentinel and gifted him with a gaze that was more intimate than any caress. The look of pure, radiant love that was clearly shining in Blair's eyes was augmented by an ever so subtle shift in the smile on his Guide's pouting lips. The warmth and desire the younger man was projecting was enough to take Jim's breath away, and for the first time that evening, the Sentinel couldn't prevent the stirring in the lower half of his body. 

As if reading the Sentinel's mind, Jim watched his Guide's pupils dilate slowly while his heartbeat increased in tempo. The detective saw Blair's smile falter, and he knew that the younger man was experiencing his own wave of lust as it raced through his smaller form. Jim couldn't stop the quiet moan that escaped him as his skin began tingling; a reaction caused by the mingling of the pheromones they were releasing into the air around them. Without conscious thought, Jim raised his hand to touch his Guide. 

"I hate to call it a night, but we need to get moving if we want to get seats at the church." 

Both Blair and Jim jumped at the sound of Simon's deep voice. The younger man immediately turned his attention to the Captain, but it took the Sentinel a few moments to shake off the overpowering effects of his Guide's pheromones. Simon said something to the detective before walking away with Ray and Karen. 

"Jim, you okay?" Blair asked, concerned over the older man's sluggish response time. 

Summoning all of his willpower, the detective was able to ground out a single word. "Pheromones." 

Blair's eyes went wide at the short explanation. Pausing for a second to discern the best course of action, his Guide looked carefully into his eyes. When he reached a decision, he informed Jim softly in a determined tone of voice. "I'm going to wait outside for you by your truck, okay Jim? Take whatever time you need to focus your concentration. You need to tone down your reaction to my pheromones. Try to remember back to what we went over in the labs, back when you were affected by Laura. You tuned her out, so you should be able to do it again with me." 

Seeing that Blair wouldn't leave without some kind of sign from him, Jim managed a jerky nod of his head. 

"Okay, I'll be outside. If you aren't out there in five minutes, I'll send in Ryf to help you," his Guide assured him before he headed out the door. 

Damn, if he couldn't control this, Blair would have to tell Ryf what exactly it was that was zoning him out. Shit. Starting the deep breathing exercises Blair had taught him so long ago, Jim found his center and began the process of fine tuning his senses so that they wouldn't be overwhelmed by the distracting pheromones. After what seemed like an eternity, the Sentinel was finally able to run his hand through the air where Blair had been standing moments ago without any effect. Sighing in relief the detective made his way outside still trembling slightly. 

There were a few stragglers making their way to their cars, and behind him he could hear Simon jiggling his keys as he fumbled to lock the door to the house. Jim saw Blair next to his truck talking to Brian and his girlfriend, Cynthia. His Guide looked at him anxiously as he approached them, only relaxing when the Sentinel stood right next to him and unlocked the door. Blair's quiet inquiry to see if everything was alright was answered with a subtle nod of confirmation. With a quick goodbye to Ryf and Cynthia, Jim opened the driver's side and got into the truck. 

* * *

"That was too weird, man. I don't understand why this happened all of a sudden. It's not like you haven't been exposed to my pheromones before." Blair questioned as they pulled up to a red light. 

"Chief, I really don't want to get into this now, alright? I mean, I've got control over it at the moment, but it's still a little too new and I'm not really comfortable with it," Jim couldn't help but flinch when he heard the gruffness in his own voice. 

The eager, curious look on Blair's face changed quickly into one of hurt and uncertainty. "You're not comfortable with this. You mean with us," he stated slowly, as if the words were causing him pain. 

Suddenly Jim realized how the younger man must have interpreted his words, and hastened to reassure him. "Oh God, no Chief. I didn't mean I wasn't comfortable about us. Shit Blair, don't you realize that it was us that caused this in the first place? I mean, pheromones are released when you are attracted to somebody, right? No, what I meant was that I'm not sure just how well I'm going to do at constantly tuning them out." 

From the corner of his eye, Jim could see Blair's eyes close as the younger man release the breath he had been holding in fear. The relief that was plainly evident on his Guide's face made Jim smile. Although he was sorry that he had inadvertently upset Blair, the Sentinel was happy to discover just how important this relationship was to the anthropologist. Wanting to further reassure the younger man, Jim reached over to hold one of Blair's hands. The Sentinel smiled when he heard his Guide's heartbeat speed up in reaction. 

Hazarding a glance at his passenger, Jim saw an expression that he was very familiar with on Blair's face. The professor was turning the matter over in his head, trying to find an explanation for what had happened back at the party. "I just don't get it. We lived together for three years, you should have been affected long before now." Jim was about to comment, but never got the chance as his Guide continued thinking aloud. Rather than interrupt, the detective just sat back and smiled at the familiarity of this situation. "Maybe you tuned them out and you weren't even aware of it. I mean, the constant exposure, maybe you just treated it like you do background noise. Y'know, like you're aware that it's there, but you're not consciously aware of it. And after we've been separated this long...of course that must be it. Have you been, like super-sensitive to me tonight?" When Jim laughed, Blair rolled his eyes, but he kept going nonetheless. "Of course you were, stupid question." 

They were only two blocks away from the church when they came to the next red light. Jim took advantage of it. Leaning over as far as his seatbelt allowed, the Sentinel let go of Blair's hand and raised it to cup his cheek. Blair stopped speaking as the hand caressed his cheek, and raised his deep blue eyes to meet Jim's. They held each other's gaze for only a second before both sets of lids dropped as they moved together as one. 

The kiss was soft, just a gentle brush of lips against lips. It was not meant to be passionate, instead it was a reassuring confirmation of each other's presence. As soon as it was complete, Jim leaned back in order to see the expression on Blair's face. The tenderness he saw there echoed what he was feeling in his own heart. 

The horn blast from the car behind them ended the moment all too soon. Once again, Jim found Blair's hand as they moved forward to look for a parking spot on the already crowded street. The detective groaned when he saw the flood of people headed towards the massive church. 

The silence was a comfortable one while they circled back around for another pass. Suddenly a thought popped into Jim's mind out of nowhere. "How did you get here?" 

Blair couldn't help but burst into hysterics. "You want the birds and the bees version or do you want me to draw you a diagram? Geez, man, I'm not surprised you got divorced if you can't answer that one." 

Jim rolled his eyes but gave in and snickered right along with his Guide. "You know what I meant, Sandburg." The detective sighed in happiness at the sight and sound of Blair's laughter. He had forgotten just how much he missed it. 

Still smiling, the younger man answered. "Steven." 

"Steven? Steven is off in Vermont. What did he have to do with it?" Jim asked with a puzzled look on his face. 

"Last night, after you guys had dinner, Steven called me on my cell phone while I was waiting at the airport to see if I could get a standby ticket somehow. Oh wait, there's a spot," Blair pointed with his free hand, never pausing in his story as Jim expertly parallel parked the truck. "Apparently, he checked to see if the company jet would be free after it dropped him off in Boston, but the pilot had one more trip to make this morning. Anyway, he asked me if I could be at one of the private hangers at 2:00 this afternoon. Yeah, right, like a whole squadron of deranged psychopaths could have kept me away. So I go down there and sure enough, at two on the dot one of the Tomacha Corporation's Lear jets taxies into the hanger." 

Slamming the door shut, the pair started walking towards the church. "I can't believe he did that," Jim said, shaking his head in disbelief. With a sharp glance at his Guide, the Sentinel's next words were spoken with a touch of reproach. "And why in the hell didn't you at least call and let me know? Do you know what it was like for me today, thinking you weren't going to be able to make it here? Jesus, you had enough time to fax in a damned breakfast order for the whole department and you couldn't find the time to make a two second call to me? Thanks a lot, Chief." 

Holding his hands up in token defense, Blair blurted out his answer. "Hey, it wasn't my idea! Steven said that he wanted it to be a surprise." 

"You still could have called, Sandburg!" Jim protested. 

"Look, your brother didn't just let me hitch a ride on the company jet, he sent it down to pick me up! What did you expect me to say? 'Thanks for the offer, Steven, but I'm afraid that Jim will be pissed if I actually show up in Cascade without me calling him first?'" Blair's stated, his voice dripping sarcasm. Extending his arms, the anthropologist pantomimed an old fashioned hanging scale. "Hmm, let's weigh the options here, shall we? A luxurious plane ride to see you, provided, of course, that I keep it a surprise verses spending Christmas alone, sitting on my ass in the Richmond airport. I don't know, man. That's a pretty tough call, don't you think?" 

One look at the sardonic expression on Blair's face was enough for Jim to see just how asinine his anger was. Instead of being upset by something as trivial as a phone call, he should have just been grateful that Blair was here at all. First the Aspen trip, now this. The Sentinel felt a little guilty at his brother's generosity. He would have to give Steven a call in the morning. 

Out of nowhere, a gloved hand clasped his arm. "Oh man, Jim, it was so great. I had the whole plane to myself, sofas to stretch out on, full bar," Blair recollected with a dreamy look on his face. "The pilot even let me have the controls for a few minutes. I gotta tell ya, it's really gonna suck next time I have to fly coach." 

"You're breaking my heart here, Sandburg," Jim responded sarcastically. How did the kid do it? Never in his life had the detective ever come across another person who could step in shit and walk away smelling of roses as often as Blair did. 

"Oh, by the way, Steven asked me to give you a message," his Guide continued, unaware of the Sentinel's wandering thoughts. Jim turned to look at Blair, prompting the younger man by raising his eyebrows into the universal expression of 'well?' Blair's forehead gathered in puzzlement at the cryptic message. "He said to tell you that you can repay him for getting me here by telling him exactly how you got those tickets." 

Jim didn't stop chuckling until they reached the church. 

* * *

December 24th 11: 25 PM 

//Choirs will be singing, Silent Night  
Those Christmas carols by candlelight// 

As he waited for the midnight mass to start, Simon Banks passed the time by staring at the enormous stained glass windows all around the church. To say that Holy Redeemer was just another church would be the same as saying that the ceiling of the Cistine Chapel was just another work of art. Built some 85 years ago by Cascades affluent Episcopalian community, the enormous white stone cathedral ran the length of four cities blocks. The church was more than just a house of worship; it was also a historical city landmark. Adjacent to the cathedral were the renowned rose gardens, which attracted thousands of tourists during the warmer months of the year. 

There were enough pews to seat 500, and thats a conservative estimate tonight, thought Simon as he scanned the sea of people that surrounded him, all pressed as closely together as possible to make room for the late arrivals. The Captain was grateful that Joel and Serena had left the party early to hold seats for the dozen or so officers that would be attending the services. Most of those who had been invited were already there, with the notable exception of Ellison and Sandburg. Simon couldnt help but snort in silent laughter as he thought of Blair, not just for his surprise appearance earlier, but also because the anthropologist was indirectly responsible for Simons membership in this particular church. 

Although Simon enjoyed the prestige that came from being a Captain on the police force, it lacked the pedigree of many of the other church members. The congregation of Holy Redeemer read like a Whos Who of Cascade. Some of the wealthiest families in the city chose to worship there; some attending because they had been raised in the Episcopalian faith, while others just used their membership as a networking tool for social and business reasons. Regardless, Holy Redeemer took in an average of two million dollars in tithes and donations each year. 

To Simon, that had seemed like a great deal of money for a church to have, until he learned that just how much the upkeep of the church and the gardens cost annually. The majority of the remaining funds went to support dozens of community charity projects. With Holy Redeemers resources, not to mention its large membership base, the church sponsored everything from clothing drives to a meals on wheels program. Simon himself volunteered for a number of events, especially anything that either directly or indirectly involved the choir. 

It had been almost two years since Blair Sandburg first talked to Simon about Darryls love of singing, yet Simon could remember it like it was yesterday. 

* * *

Unable to afford private lessons, and stymied by his sons flat out refusals to join the school choir, the Captain and the Observer put their heads together to find an alternative place where Darryl could develop his talent. The idea of trying out for Holy Redeemers choir came to Blair when he ran into Harold Kent, Ph.D.. outside the Music Building at Rainer during finals week. Not only did Harold teach several vocal classes at the University, he was also the musical director of the church, directing the choir to victory in numerous competitions all over the Pacific Northwest. 

Being in the Holy Redeemer choir was a honor, but it was almost like a second job for most of the members. Each person was required to take one private session with Harold each week, in addition to twice weekly three hour long group practices. In following tradition, church members were given preference when there were openings in the choir, but if their were no suitable volunteers, private auditions were held for an extremely short list of select candidates. 

Blair was actually muddling over what to do to help Darryl when he ran into Harold. With half of the Music Department sick with the flu, the good doctor was desperate to find someone to proctor a make-up exam for some of his Music Theory 102 students who had been too sick to take the regularly scheduled test. Although it was outside of his field of expertise, Blair volunteered to monitor the exam despite his own busy schedule. In return, he asked Harold to give Darryl an audition. 

In all honestly, Dr. Kent didnt have much faith in Blairs ability to judge vocal talent. He figured that it would only take five minutes of his valuable time to listen to the kid screech out a hymn or two, before he would say Thanks, Im afraid we dont have an open spot in the choir right now, but Ill be sure to keep you in mind. Two weeks later, Harold was suitably impressed by the raw talent his trained ear recognized in Darryls voice. Although the kid had promise, he lacked training. Harold extended Darryl an invitation to join the junior choir at Holy Redeemer, which was essentially a Music 101 class. 

For the next eighteen months, Simon watched with paternal pride as Darryl worked hard, balancing his commitment to singing against his schoolwork and the varsity baseball team. With Blair and Harolds assistance, his son received special permission to take an evening Music Theory 101 class at Rainer. It was there that he earned his first college credits at age sixteen. When Darryl managed to finish the semester with a B, Simon walked around the station with a perma-grin on his face for a solid week. Jim and Blair took the younger Banks out for dinner, not only to celebrate his achievement, but also to thank him for causing Simons about face in personality. About two months after that night, Darryl had been formally asked to become the youngest member of Holy Redeemers regular choir. 

* * *

As they walked in the door, Jim and Blair were both handed service bulletins and small white candles inserted through circular cardboard wax catchers. Scanning through the crowd, the Sentinel finally caught sight of Simon waving to them from the end of a pew near the front of the packed church. Placing a hand on the small of Blairs back, Jim guided the younger man forward towards the waiting Captain. 

Did you get lost or something? Simon whispered as he moved out into the aisle to allow to two men to pass by. He had no intention of giving up his end seat, not only for the extra leg room it provided, but also since it afforded a better view of the pulpit Darryl would be singing from later. Everyone in the pew shifted down to make room for the new arrivals. 

At least I dont have to worry about zoning out, the Sentinel whispered when he noticed the seating arrangement. Somehow, he had ended up with Ryf on one side and Blair on the other. All three shared a knowing smile at the comment. 

After stowing their bulky coats between the knee rest and the pew in front of them, Blair immediately reached for both a prayer book and a hymnal. Jim watched in amusement as the professor opened his bulletin and used it to mark the page the service began on before returning it to the rack in front of them. How can someone who is such a slob in every other aspect of his life be so anal when it comes to anything involving a book? he wondered to himself. 

Not a word, man, Blair whispered out of the corner of his mouth. 

Jim was wondering whether he had spoken aloud or if his Guide had taken up mindreading, when he was deafened by the blaring of the massive church organ that signaled the beginning of the service. As his hands flew involuntarily up to cover his ears in a futile attempt to protect himself, Blair and Ryf both grabbed on to his arms in an effort to ground him. With both his partner and his Guide holding on to him, the Sentinel was able to focus long enough to adjust his mental audio dial to a much lower setting. 

Nodding to signal that he was okay, all three of them turned around to watch the colorful procession as it made its way down the aisle. White gloved altar boys and girls bearing either a crucifix or torches were followed by various lay readers. Finally, the thirty member choir passed by in pairs as they sang O! Come All Ye Faithful. Darryl was with the other tenors, and Jim couldnt help but grin as he watched the teenager search the crowd for their group of Cascades finest. 

Unfortunately, Darryl was on the opposite side of the aisle from their seats. With the choir members walking so closely together, he only noticed his father right before he moved past their pew. Due to his height, Jim was just barely able to see the smile that crossed the younger Banks face as he shuffled along. However, the bulky form of the Captain had completely obscured Blairs view of Darryl and vice-versa. 

By the time the eighth verse of the song rolled around, Jim was quite sure that all the Faithful had been gathered. With his Sentinel eyesight, the detective stifled a sympathetic grin for the two poor altar girls whos arms were shaking with the fatigue as they held the heavy brass and glass torches. From some unbidden corner of his mind, the words altar flambé floated to the surface. 

As the song ended and the priest began the service, Jims thoughts started to wander. Religion had never played a large roll in the detectives life. Both he and Steven had been baptized Methodist, but other than yearly Christmas and Easter services, their father had more important things to do than to waste his time at church. Jim liked to believe that there was a God, but preferred to think that he and the Lord had an understanding as it were, instead of choosing any organized religion. 

Maybe that was why hed been so surprised when he learned that Blair followed most of the tenants of the Jewish faith. With the anthropologists interest in religions of all forms, Jim had just assumed that his Guide would be a kind of jack of all trades, but master of none when it came to his own personal beliefs. Always pressed for time, Blair was an infrequent visitor at Temple Beth El, attending services whenever he felt the need. Once, just after the whole mess with Lash had occurred, the younger man had invited Jim to accompany him one Saturday. The detective had gone, partially out of curiosity, but mostly out of concern for his still-traumatized Guide. On the ride back to the loft, they got into a deep discussion on religion in general. Once he was aware of Jims views, Blair respected the detectives Agnostic beliefs. 

Not familiar with the services, Jim and Blair both followed Simons lead of when to speak, when to sing, when to kneel, when to sit, and when to stand. As they sank to their knees for the third time in less than ten minutes, the Captain mumbled to Blair, Our Lady of the Blessed Reebok, the low impact religion. The Sentinel, whos enhanced hearing had picked up the comment, grinned at the sight of his Guide struggling not let out the laughter he was so desperately trying to contain. 

Two hymns and one soloist later, the moment finally arrived. Everyone in their group was smiling as they saw Darryl move forward into the pulpit in front of them. Directly beneath the teenager, Harold Kent settled himself at the keyboard of a black baby grand piano, and waited for the young man to signal that he was ready to begin. 

Taking a deep breath, Jim followed the teenagers line of vision until it settled on the beaming face of his father. Then, for the first time that night, Darryl saw Blair sitting quietly next to Simon. The detectives own grin widened as he watched the young mans eyes go round in surprise before an enormous smile erupted on his face. Only when the anthropologist graced Darryl with one of his mega-watt smiles and a small wink, did the teenager visibly relax as he nodded at Harold to start the music. 

//O! Holy night. The stars are brightly shining...// Darryls smooth tenor began. Never having heard the teenager sing before, Jim was completely amazed at just how good he actually was. Almost involuntarily, the Sentinel closed his eyes so he could focus more carefully on the rich sound. Although he didnt know much about music, Jim was grateful that they had chosen the piano over the blaring sound of the organ. Darryls voice was strong enough that it could have easily carried over the organ; but somehow, the softer notes of the baby grand complemented the teenagers powerful voice. 

//Fall on your knees, O! hear the angel voices. O! Night Divine. When Christ was born...// As Darryl sang the refrain of the hymn, Jim marveled at the beauty in the of the young mans voice, the way he was able to roll the sounds, the easy way he hit the higher notes; almost demanding that the congregation do what the song lyrics asked. 

The sound of the other choir members singing the refrain in the background hit the Sentinel like a roll of thunder; softly at first, but quickly building in intensity. As they harmonized with Darryl at the end of the chorus, Jim noticed that he was rapidly approaching a zone out. In order to prevent it from happening, the Sentinel opened his eyes, allowing his sight to counterbalance his sense of hearing. 

A quick glance to his right allowed Jim to watch Blair unobserved for a moment. His Guide was completely enraptured by the teenagers performance. The anthropologist was so focused on Darryl, Jim would have been willing to bet that he hadnt so much as blinked since the song began. It was a rare sight to see his Guide so utterly still, and Jim knew instinctively that Blair had been caught in the magical spell that Darryls voice was weaving around the congregation. As the teenager hit a particularly high note and held it, the Sentinel caught the almost imperceptible nod of approval the anthropologist couldnt quite contain. 

Turning his attention to his Captain, the detective was awed by what he saw. In all of their nine years of friendship, Jim could never recall such a powerful mix of paternal pride and sheer joy gracing the older mans face. It was a stunning sight, one that the Sentinel felt privileged to have witnessed. 

//O! Night divine.// As the songs conclusion rapidly neared, Darryls voice seemed to grow even stronger, easily distinguishing itself from the harmonized sounds of the choir behind him. On the last word of the hymn, the teenagers smooth tenor moved fluidly over many notes before settling on a final one. Jim was utterly amazed as Darryl drew out the last syllable for what seemed like an impossibly long time, before Harolds quick hand signal silenced not only the soloist, but the entire choir. 

Jim automatically wanted to applaud Darryls magnificent performance. His arms had actually begun the necessary movements before he suddenly remembered exactly where he was, and that his applause wouldnt really be apropos. Similar movements from both Ryf and Blair made him realize that he was not alone in his impulse. All three men shared a secret grin as they turned to smile at their beaming Captain. 

The rest of the service passed relatively quickly. The Sentinel elected not to take communion, but wasnt surprised when all of the others in the pew, including his Guide made their way up to the altar. Jim knew that as an anthropologist, Blair would want to experience every aspect of any service that he was allowed to participate in, whether it was Christianity or some obscure Indian ritual. Alone in the long row, the Sentinel took the opportunity to say a little prayer for his brother, just as he had promised to do on his way to the church. 

When the last of the congregation finally made their way back to their seats, and the priest finished clearing up the altar, the lights in the church suddenly dimmed. In the semi-darkness, it was easy to follow the two altar girls as they picked up their torches and headed back down the aisle to the first pews. So intent was he on their movements, Jim was startled when Blair tapped his arm to hand him the small white candle he had been given when he entered the church. 

//Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.// Unaccompanied by any instruments, the choir began the song in almost perfect unison as the first candles were lit. Once finished with the first pew, the torch bearers moved further down the aisle, stopping several rows behind them to repeat the process. Jim watched as each person turned to their neighbor to pass along the flame they had been given, slowly bathing the entire church in an ever-intensifying glow as candle after candle was lighted. As the accapella version of the hymn continued, individual members of the choir took turns soloing on various words and lines of song. 

//Silent night...// They were on the third verse of the hymn when Jim turned to his left to light his candle from the one that Ryf was extending with a soft smile. //...Loves pure light, radiant beams from light holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace...// Those were the words that were sung as Jim turned to his other side to offer his flame to his Guide. Blairs expression was one of reverence as he brought the wick of his own candle to the detectives. Once the task was complete, the younger man raised his eyes under the veil of his long lashes to meet the pale blues of his Sentinels. Bathed in the soft light of the flame, Blairs face seemed to emit an ethereal glow all its own. He smiled at Jim with such tenderness that it took the older mans breath away. In the span of a few short seconds, an eternity passed as they gazed at one another, each man thanking his own God for bringing them together in this life. 

It was Blair who finally broke the moment when he remembered that Simon was waiting patiently to light his own candle. Jim caught the fleeting expression of regret before his Guide turned away from him. Without the younger mans direct attention to occupy him, the Sentinel looked up and saw the reason the service included this tradition. 

Now that all of the small candles had been lit, the warm glow they cast illuminated each individual pane of stained glass in the enormous windows; which in turn reflected a soft myriad of colors over the massive nave of the church. The beauty of the gentle hues, combined with the sound of the voices of the entire congregation singing, both he and Blair included, created an air of pure tranquility. Somehow, the Sentinel knew this was a memory that would stay with him for the rest of his days. 

As the last gentle notes tapered off, Holy Redeemers three large bells began ringing to celebrate the conclusion of the service. Having turned down his sense of hearing to compensate for the volume of sound generated by the bells, Jim wasnt bothered when the organ blared out the opening notes of the recessional hymn just a few seconds later. When Brown started singing, most of the people in their pew burst into laughter. 

* * *

Clearing that many people out of a church was a time consuming process. Rather than join the throngs of people heading for the door, the folks from Major Crimes simply decided to sit and wait until the bulk of the crowd had dissipated. Simon and Blair slipped into the row in front of them to make conversing a little easier for everyone. 

I cant believe you did that, man! Blair exclaimed through his laughter. 

How was I supposed to know it wasnt the Three Dog Night version? I mean, I am a child of the 70s, Ray shot back. Brown had noticed earlier in the service bulletin that the last hymn to be sung would be Joy to the World. Rather than the more traditional song, the detective had belted out Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine loud enough for most of the people in their pew to hear. 

The effect of the joke had been magnified by the somberness of the earlier moment. The various uncontrollable snickers and snorts came not only from their little group, but also from several people around them. Of course, it also earned them a few disapproving glares of reproach that went unnoticed as hands flew up to cover the inappropriate smiles. 

Most of the late night worshippers were making their way out the door by the time Darryl came back into the church. Fighting his way through the flood of people heading out the door, the young man resembled a salmon attempting to make its way back upstream. Jim smiled as the robed figure broke through the last part of the crowd and headed full speed towards his father. 

It was hard to say who was more shocked, Simon or Blair, as the teenager flew past his father to get to the anthropologist. Darryl had inherited his fathers large stature, forcing him to lean down to sweep Blair into a giant bear hug. Oh man, Im so glad youre here! 

Only Jims sensitive hearing picked up Blairs sarcastic mumble as Darryl held the anthropologist so tightly, his feet came off the ground for the umpteenth time that evening. What am I? A Tickle Me Elmo doll? Speaking at a conversational volume, Blair couldnt help but tease the teenager about the six inch difference in their heights. Oh, man. I see your fathers been feeding you Miracle Grow again, the anthropologist quipped before releasing Darryl to go hug his impatiently waiting father. 

The reunion was intense, but short lived, as the clock rapidly approached one in the morning. Knowing that they would see everybody at the Browns Christmas dinner later, they made their way towards the door. With extra hugs to congratulate Darryls performance, Jim and Blair said their goodnights and headed for home. 

* * *

December 25th 1:49 am 

//Then won't you tell me you'll never more roam  
Christmas and New Year's will find you at home.// 

The drive to the loft was for the most part silent. Both men had been awake for almost twenty-four hours straight, and exhaustion had finally caught up with them. Blair fell into a light doze minutes after he buckled his seatbelt, leaving Jim to navigate the deserted streets of Cascade with only the radio for company. 

Too tired to take the stairs, the Sentinel ushered his sleepy Guide into the waiting elevator. "Hey Chief, didn't you bring any luggage with you?" 

Not bothering to raise his closed eyelids, Blair mumbled out a response. "Already upstairs." 

"You took a cab from the airport to here, and then out to Simon's? That must have cost you a fortune!" Jim exclaimed through a face-splitting yawn. 

Like a Pavlov dog, the sound alone was enough to drag a yawn from his Guide as well. "Steven...limo...," Even the Sentinel's hearing wasn't enough to make out all of the words, but it was enough to get the picture. Still, the explanation didn't surprise Jim in the least. 

Jim used one hand to unlock the front door, and propelled his drowsy partner through it with the other. Flipping the switch by the door, the room was illuminated only by the tiny Christmas bulbs which bathed the loft in a warm glow. Blair's bag sat on the floor near the end of the coffee table next to a large brown cardboard box that bore the address of the loft written in thick black magic marker. The Sentinel smiled as he envisioned the younger man quickly dropping off his things before racing over to Simon's party. There was a chill in the air, and knowing how much Blair hated the cold, Jim moved to the fireplace to get a blaze going. 

"Do you want some coffee or tea, Chief?" Jim asked looking away from his work. Hearing no response, he turned around to see his Guide fast asleep on the larger of the two sofas. Smiling at the portrait before him, the Sentinel walked over and covered Blair with the quilt from the back of the couch. 

Leaning forward to plant a tender kiss on his Guide's forehead, Jim was startled as the younger man's arms came up from under the blanket and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Using his enhanced hearing, the Sentinel listened to the slow heartbeat and respiration that told him Blair was for the most part, still asleep. Still, he couldn't resist the urge to move closer to the warmth of the man holding him. 

"Stay." His awkward position left an ear close to his Guide's parted lips, so what normally would have been a faint whisper, even to his sensitive hearing, instead sounded like a breathy invitation. The thought of not accepting never once crossed his mind. 

Stripping down to his boxers, the Sentinel crawled under the covers and conformed himself to the warm figure of his Guide. In his sleep, Blair instinctively threw an arm over Jim's broad chest as he nestled closer to the larger man. Jim was almost asleep himself when one last whisper caused him to smile. 

"Finally home." 

* * *

Through the hazy veil of half-consciousness that only comes when waking from the deepest sleep, Jim felt the warm, tender hand that was gently caressing his back. At first, the Sentinel thought the sensation was just another of the erotic dreams that he had been experiencing over the course of the past four months. However, none of the dreams had ever been so realistic to his auditory, olfactory, and tactile senses. 

The warm breath that escaped the soft, full lips as they tenderly brushed against his collar bone was enough to wring a groan from deep within his chest. Encouraged by the sound, Blair made a path of brushing kisses from Jim's shoulder, up his neck, only stopping when he reached an ear. His hot, wet tongue darted out to trace the outermost edge of the rim before slowly circling inward. 

The intoxicating sound of Blair's breathing was magnified a hundredfold just by proximity. The combination of the sensual sound combined with the warm air that passed over the damp trail left by the wandering tongue was enough to raise gooseflesh over the entire right side of the Sentinel's body. When the younger man shifted his hand from Jim's broad back to sweep down to the rounding curve of his buttocks, the detective couldn't stop himself from calling out Blair's name in desire. 

For some reason unknown to the Sentinel, that one simple word broke the passionate spell that they had created. Blair slowed his erotic ministrations before he stopped completely and moved away from the body he had just been pressed up against. The motion was mostly symbolic, considering that he hadn't moved more than a half a foot or so before his shoulder blades came into contact with the back of the sofa. 

Confused by the sudden withdrawal of the pleasing stimulations, the Sentinel's eyes flew open to find the cause of the problem. In an instant, the detective's mind registered the fact that it was still dark outside. There was a layer of condensation covering all of the windows of the loft caused when the warmer air inside the loft met up with the cooler air on the other side of the glass. Judging by the cooling air of the room, they had probably been asleep for no more than three hours or so. 

Even with the illumination thrown by the white Christmas bulbs, Jim's enhanced senses automatically dilated his pupils, allowing him to take a closer look at the face of the man who had teased him into full hardness with a few simple touches. The expression on his Guide's face was a strange mix of desire and self-disgust. 

Oh man, Jim. I'm like, so sorry," Blair whispered. 

Totally confused, the Sentinel couldn't hold back his response. "Sorry for what, Blair?" 

Unable to look the older man in the eyes, the anthropologist kept his gaze on the design of the quilt that covered them. "I, well, I promised myself that I wouldn't do this -- that you had complete control over this relationship. I never meant to take advantage of you in your sleep." 

Shaking his head at his Guide's needless gallantry, Jim crossed the short distance between them, searching to once again find Blair's soft inviting lips. It was only a second before the younger man acquiesced to the kiss, melting against the larger form of his Sentinel as his tongue darted forward to sweep boldly across the older man's upper lip. Jim took the movement as a challenge and captured the hot flesh by drawing it into his own mouth. They danced and swirled against each other until both men pulled apart gasping for breath. Moving his own body to completely cover his Guide's smaller form, Jim brought his lips down to Blair's neck. 

His steady progression of licks and kisses brought a symphony of passionate moans from the younger man. Driven by the erotic sounds, the Sentinel couldn't stop his pelvis from rocking rhythmically against the body beneath his. Blair felt the undulations and began counterthrusting in time to Jim's movements. Both men gasped when their rock hard erections brushed against each other for the first time. The Sentinel grunted as his Guide's fingers involuntarily dug into the corded muscles of his back in response to the intimate contact. At any other time, the pain would have been uncomfortable, but instead it only added to the growing desire that was quickly overwhelming him. 

The maddening friction that was created by the movements was too powerful to stop. Adjusting his arm, the Sentinel shifted his position slightly to increase the amount of contact between their aching cocks. Even through the layers of clothing that separated them, Jim's heighten tactile sense could distinctly feel the rolling of the younger man's abdominal muscles as they constricted with each thrust. 

The sensation mesmerized the Sentinel, bringing him right to the edge of a zone out. In a effort to prevent it, Jim ran one of his large hands up and entwined it in his Guide's long hair. Almost too late, the Sentinel realized the error of his action as the soft, silky texture of the curls completely captured his attention. 

A stinging bite to his nipple quickly brought him back to reality. Jim opened his eyes and looked down to his chest to find Blair staring back at him. "You still with me?" The passion-darkened, smoky eyes never left Jim's as the anthropologist soothed the now throbbing nipple with gentle licks. The effect of the simple action was intensified by the lingering pain, causing the Sentinel to arch his back, silently pleading for more of the tender stimulation. 

"St...still here. Oh God, Blair. More, please, more," Jim managed to gasp. 

"All you want, Jim. All you want," Blair whispered in reassurance. The anthropologist continued his oral assault all over his Sentinel's chest. It seemed to the Sentinel's lust-filled brain that even his heightened tactile sense couldn't register all of the fleeting licks, kisses, and playful bites his Guide was randomly administering all along his upper body. Throughout the entire barrage of stimulation, the rhythmic movement of hips gradually increased in speed and strength. 

It was the Sentinel who came first, howling wordlessly at the intensity of the orgasm that swept through his body. Once the initial rush had passed, Jim realized that Blair was still thrusting against him, not having gone over the edge himself. Still out of breath, the Sentinel moved his hips in the rhythm that his Guide was setting. 

Opening his eyes for the first time since the madness had overtaken him, Jim saw Blair staring back at him. Somehow, he instinctively knew that the younger man had watched him as he climaxed. For some unknown reason, the idea seemed exquisitely erotic. Figuring that turnabout was fair play, Jim decided that he wanted to see his Guide in the throws of passion. 

"Close your eyes, Blair," he ordered in a throaty whisper. Extending a hand to softly caress the younger man's face, Jim quickened the thrusts of his half erect cock against his Guide's throbbing member. "Come for me, Blair. Come for me," he chanted in encouragement. The younger man's expressive face reflected dozens of emotions all at once as he strained to reach completion. Never before had Jim bothered to look this closely at a lover so close to the brink, and he was suddenly glad that he had never taken the time with anyone other than Blair. 

The vision of the man under him was beyond words. Long curls spilled over the cushions of the sofa, begging for Jim's fingers to run carefully through them. The roots were damp from the same perspiration that created a glossy sheen over the flushed face. Blair's normally gentle forehead was creased by the soft, feathery eyebrows that arched in concentration while he raced towards his impending climax. Lowering his gaze, Jim took in the sight of the dark eyelashes, so long they almost seemed feminine in appearance. His Guide's slightly upturned nose was flaring as he struggled to meet his lungs' urgent need for air. Across the flushed cheeks and chin, there was a rough layer of stubble that surrounded that enchanting mouth. The full, pouting lips were parted, allowing the small breathy moans that accompanied each exhale to escape. 

Overwhelmed by what he saw, Jim tried to channel all of his feelings into the tone of his voice when he whispered, "God Blair, you are just so beautiful..." 

The rest of what Jim was going to say was forgotten as one of Blair's soft moans grew rapidly into a wail of pleasure as he exploded in orgasm. The Sentinel gasped as his Guide's face tightened into what looked like a grimace of pain. As the younger man's seed poured from his body, his closed eyelids squeezed together as his mouth opened wide in a kind of twisted smile. The tautly stretched lips drew back to expose the two rows of small, white teeth that only a few minutes earlier had inflamed the Sentinel's chest with their bite. 

Only when he was finally spent did Blair's flushed face relax completely. Totally enthralled by what he had just been privileged enough to witness, Jim sat there gaping open-mouthed at his Guide. Aside from the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he continued to pant for breath, and the occasional aftershock tremors; the younger man was totally motionless. Even his eyes were still closed. 

"Blair?" Jim asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice. The Sentinel shifted as best he could within the confines of the limited space the sofa had to offer. He ended up on his side, with his back up against the couch. Wrapping one arm over Blair's shoulder, the other was pinned against the seat of the sofa by the younger man's resting head. Still unresponsive, the Sentinel used his hearing to monitor his Guide's heartbeat. It was a little fast, but returning to normal. Blair most likely had either passed out or had fallen back to sleep. Either way, he was going to be fine. 

Hugging the smaller frame tightly to his own, Jim quickly followed his Guide into unconsciousness. 

* * *

December 25th 10:02 am 

//There'll be no more sorrow, no grief, or pain  
Cause I'll be happy that it's Christmas once again.// 

It was the dull ache in the Sentinel's right arm that woke him this time. On the whole, he had to admit that waking from Blair's earlier caresses had been much more pleasurable. Trying his best not to stir his sleeping Guide, Jim slipped the protesting appendage out from under the cascade of silky curls. The careful movement brought a rush of blood as circulation returned. The agonizing sensation of pins and needles forced the Sentinel to hiss in pain as he attempted to shake the feeling out of his arm. 

The sharp noise woke the younger man immediately. Blair sat up on his elbow smirking at his Sentinel's predicament. "Guess we should have gone for a bed, huh?" 

"Hey, I wasn't the one who all but passed out on the couch, Sandburg," Jim protested as he sat back on his knees. 

The Sentinel's movement caused the blanket that had covered them to fall back behind his kneeling form. The younger man stared at Jim's muscular chest like a prisoner let loose in a house of ill repute. Shaking his head to clear his baser thoughts, Blair asked what the time was. 

Jim had not missed his Guide's visual examination; and despite his best intentions, found himself blushing from the close scrutiny. It actually took a second for Blair's question to register before he looked down at his watch. "It's a little after ten, Chief." 

"What time do we have to be at the Brown's?" 

"Not until three or so," Jim replied as he stood up from the couch. He smiled as he heard Blair suck in a sharp breath at the sight of his boxer-clad form. Slowly, the Sentinel turned around and saw the desire in the younger man's eyes. As if suddenly aware of his thoughts, Blair quickly looked away. A flash of anger swept through the older man, and he quickly moved to cup the stubble-covered chin in his hand. When the smoky blue eyes finally met his own pale blues, Jim spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "Don't ever do that. Don't turn away from me. Don't try to hide what you feel. Especially not when it's just you and me." In an effort to take some of the sting out of his words, the Sentinel leaned forward and kissed the younger man soundly. When they finally drew apart from each other, Jim left his hand to gently caress a roughened cheek. 

Nuzzling into the tender touch, Blair kept his gaze fixed on the soft blue eyes before him. "I'm sorry," he began shyly. "It's just...well...," Jim nodded slightly, urging him to continue. "It's just that we've never, well this relationship has never seen the light of day, you know what I mean?" 

Jim was staring at the younger man as though he had suddenly sprouted three heads. He didn't understand what Blair was trying to say. It took him a minute to comprehend what the anthropologist meant before the realization hit him. Blair was right. All of their encounters, hell, even most of their long hours of phone calls had taken place at night. The last time they had been together during the day was that horrible morning that Blair had departed for Virginia. Recalling his stupidity in rejecting the man he loved after their first incredible night together, Jim mentally kicked himself about eight different ways for not doing a better job of showing his affections for the younger man this morning. 

Jim knew better than anybody that a good portion of the younger man's staggering self-confidence was a facade, especially when it came to long-term romantic relationships. Blair had never proven to be adept at them, even when the stakes were much lower than they were now. Instinctively, the Sentinel knew that his Guide was going to require constant reassurances, especially after the way Jim had treated him last time they had been face to face. 

Gently stroking the stubble-covered flesh under his hand, Jim did his best to ease the younger man's mind. "I want to make this perfectly clear, okay Blair? I know that I've screwed up a lot already when it comes to us, to this...relationship. It took a long time for me to decide what I wanted...no, scratch that. I think I knew what I wanted from the first night we were together. It just took me a long time to accept it." Jim paused for a breath, taking the opportunity to gaze intently into those dark eyes. "I just want you to know that any doubts I had about you and me went out the window last night when you walked across Simon's living room. I love you, Blair. I love you so much that I can't even remember why I ever thought I shouldn't." 

Through the veil of moisture that was gathering in his own eyes, Jim observed his Guide deal with a similar problem. With an iron will, the Sentinel kept the threatening tears from actually falling, but Blair wasn't so lucky. Moving slowly, the smaller man reached up to pull Jim into a fierce embrace. "I love you, too, Jim," he said quietly into the Sentinel's neck before gracing the flesh under his lips with a gentle kiss. 

As they stepped back from each other, they shared a smile. Blair's expression of one of love and adoration, but there was something else there, as well. If the Sentinel had to put a label on it, he would have called it reservation. Wanting no secrets between them, Jim forehead creased in puzzlement as he spoke. "What is it, Chief?" 

"Huh?" Blair asked, honestly confused by his Sentinel's question. 

"There's still something bothering you, isn't there?" Jim prodded. The younger man froze, but his increased heartbeat gave him away. Sensing his Guide's hesitance, the Sentinel was quick to put him at ease. "It's okay, Blair. Whatever it is, just tell me, okay?" 

Jim watched Blair's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously. Visibly gathering his courage, he took a deep breath before he spoke softly. "I'm sorry, Jim. It's just that...well, I know that you love me, and I love you too, man. More than you'll ever know, but...I'm just kinda...well...I'm...I guess scared is the best word." 

"I'm not following you here, Chief. What are you afraid of?" Jim asked. 

Blair began pacing as he attempted to put his emotions into words. "I'm not sure. No, forget that. I'm just nervous I guess," he held up a hand to forestall what he knew Jim was about to say. "Look, you know that relationships have never been my strong point, and what's happened in the past twenty-four hours by far surpassed my best-case scenario of what would happen when we finally saw each other again. I guess what worries me is that it's too perfect, Jim. Everything is fine so far, no make that absolutely fucking fantastic. But what happens when we have to walk out that door and face the world? I'm really scared that you're going to realize that this isn't what you wanted after all." 

None of what his Guide had said in his little narrative was new ground for either of them. They'd had this same discussion many nights long distance. What was different was the fact that at some point they had swapped scripts. In the past it had always been Jim who made these arguments, now the older man needed to assume the roll of the voice of reason. 

"Chief...Blair, listen to me for a minute. You know me, and what a stubborn bastard I can be, but you also know that once I make a decision about something, there is very little that can change my mind. I want this to work, I need you; not just as my best friend, not just to be my Guide, not even as my Shaman, I need you." Seeing that his words were penetrating through the younger man's fears, Jim pressed onwards. "As for what happens when we leave the loft, I've gotta admit that I'm not really comfortable with advertising that we're together for the time being. Don't get me wrong, Blair. I'm not ashamed that I'm in love with you, I'm just not ready to deal with all the shit that's going to come from everybody else, especially when you won't be here to help me pick up the pieces." 

The expression on Blair's face was one of relief. "I understand. Believe me, I'm not ready to put up a billboard, yet, either. I'm sorry, I guess I just needed to know that you're in this for the long haul, man," he finished sheepishly. 

"I'm right next to you, Blair. For the whole trip," Jim added with a determined smile. The doubt that he had seen earlier was gone now, allowing the sensual eyes to shine like sapphires. 

Impulsively they came together for one more peck of a kiss before Blair walked towards the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He reaching up into the cabinet to grab the filters when he yelped in pain. Looking up from the quilt he was folding, Jim asked, "What's wrong, Chief?" 

Blushing straight to the roots of his long curly hair, Blair lowered a hand to adjust himself as he continued on to the kitchen. "Should've cleaned up a little last night before we fell asleep," he mumbled. 

The fact was that Jim understood his Guide's uncomfortable predicament all too well as his own boxers were now somewhat painfully stuck to some very sensitive skin, but he couldn't resist teasing the younger man. "That's what you get for falling asleep on me, Sandburg." 

Blair rolled his eyes at the comment as he poured the water into the coffee maker and flipped the on switch. "Oh, I'm like, so sorry," he said sarcastically. "Besides, it's your fault, anyway." 

"My fault?" Jim asked incredulously. 

"Who do you think exhausted me in the first place?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes. "Can I help it if you caused my brain to go into meltdown?" 

The atmosphere in the room shifted suddenly as the stray comment brought back memories of the night before. Jim had to mentally restrain himself from crossing the room and taking the younger man right there on the floor of the kitchen. The abrupt wave of desire rocked the Sentinel, giving him an idea on how to satisfy it. "Would you like to shower with me?" he asked, surprised at the huskiness in his own voice. 

Unable to speak, Blair simply nodded. Extending a hand in invitation, the younger man crossed the room and clasped it. Together, Sentinel and Guide made their way towards the bathroom. 

* * *

After living together for so many years, Jim knew that Blair had seen him in various states of undress many times before. Oddly enough, the Sentinel found himself nervous over stripping down to get into the shower. 'Get a grip, Ellison,' Jim thought to himself. 'Blair's been in parts of me that nobody has ever touched before.' 

The Sentinel looked over to find his Guide having similar problems. The younger man had removed all of his clothing except for his boxers. They stood there for a moment, both embarrassed and unsure at what to do next. As the absurdity of the situation hit them, they both began laughing at the same time. 

Jim reached into the shower and began running the hot water, and by the time the Sentinel's attention had returned to his Guide, the younger man was completely naked. He could do nothing but stand there gaping as Blair pushed past him and stepped into the steaming stream of water. 

"You planning on joining me?" Blair asked with a saucy grin. The azure blue eyes were twinkling with mischief, but when Jim slowly pulled down his boxers and stepped out of them, the tint darkened into the color of the deepest ocean. It was Blair's turn to stare as the older man boldly walked right into the shower with a grin of his own. 

With both of them unsure of what the other one was expecting, they took turns under the hot water, each washing his own hair. Blair was surprised to find bottles of his favorite shampoo and conditioner still in the shower caddy, but said nothing about it. However, as soon as that familiar fragrance wafted through the air mixing with the intoxicating scent that only came from Blair himself, all the blood in Jim's body made a massive detour to his groin. 

In all of their phone conversations, the Sentinel had never mentioned that his favorite way of releasing his pent-up sexual frustration was using his Guide's shampoo to masturbate in the shower. The slick substance was more than just lubrication, the unique scent helped him to trick his enhanced senses as he fantasized about Blair. Now, the object of his desires was actually here, and just the knowledge of that fact was enough leave him with a powerful erection. 

The Sentinel eyes swept down over his lover's dripping body. The long wet hair was slicked back from his forehead, added a more dangerous edge to the younger man's raw sensuality. Sweeping his gaze past the wanton look on his Guide's face, Jim took a moment to admire the solid expanse of the hair dusted flesh and muscle that comprised Blair's chest. It never failed to amaze the older man how deceptive Blair's height actually was. So many people, himself included, tended to overlook the sinewy strength and iron will that were so neatly camouflaged by the smaller build of his Guide's body. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Blair to get people to talk to him, trust him with their secrets. 

Putting the revelation aside for the moment, Jim continued his inspection. His eyes followed the thinning trail of hair down from the bottom of the rib cage, past the indentation of the younger man's navel, right down to the erection that was jutting eagerly away from the thick mat of coarse hair. The Sentinel didn't need enhanced vision to see the glistening drop of pre-come that had gathered at the tip; almost beckoning him to touch it. 

Blair's respiration had noticeably increased as Jim visually ravaged his body. The soft pants echoed in the Sentinel's ears like rolls of thunder, exponentially increasing the desire that was raging through him. It was like a banquet and he was a starving man, everything looked so good that he just didn't know where to begin. 

Fortunately, Blair had a few ideas of his own. Reaching for a washcloth, the younger man poured a little liquid soap into it and rubbed it into a lather. Once the action was completed, his smoky eyes pierced Jim's. The overwhelming lust the Sentinel saw directed at him froze him in place. 

"Wash me?" Blair said, his passion clearly evident in his tone. The Sentinel accepted the cloth with a shaking hand, never once turning his eyes away from the hypnotic stare of his Guide. Jim took a step forward, the motion more symbolic than necessary as they were already standing so close to each other. Finally, the Sentinel broke the gaze in order to concentrate on the task at hand. 

He began with his Guide's slender neck, and proceeded to work downwards. As Jim moved the cloth over the expanse of Blair's chest, he left a trail of soapy bubbles behind on each inch of skin. When he brushed the rough textured cloth over the sensitive nipples, the younger man hissed in pleasure. The Sentinel repeated the contact a few times before continuing downward. Once he reached his Guide's waist, Jim kneeled down to clean Blair's feet. His Guide's moan of disappointment almost made the Sentinel chuckle. 

The entire time Jim was working his way upwards over the strong calves and the powerful thighs, Blair's erection was bobbing mere inches away from his face. He had to admit that the swollen flesh, which was now copiously leaking pre-ejaculate, made a tempting sight. The salty scent of the semen mixed with the musky scent that was most prevalent at his Guide's groin was inflaming the Sentinel's sense of smell. 

"Please. Oh God, please Jim, I need to feel you. Please." Blair begged desperately. 

Even though he knew what his Guide wanted him to do, the older man held back. For some reason, Jim couldn't bring himself to take Blair's cock into his mouth. Instead, the Sentinel ran the washcloth over the swollen flesh. As the rough material made contact with the sensitive skin, Blair's hips involuntarily bucked forward. Abandoning the cloth, Jim took his Guide's cock in his hand and began pumping it slowly. 

Blair was moaning in time with each stroke. Using the noises as a gauge, whenever the younger man increased either the volume or the tempo, Jim increased the speed of his motions. Sensing that his Guide was nearing the edge, the Sentinel brought his free hand up to caress the tender flesh of Blair's balls. Almost as soon as he touched them, Jim felt the almost imperceptible tightening that heralded his Guide's orgasm. 

The sound of Blair screaming out his name along with the sight of the semen as it arced through the air to land on Jim's own chin, neck, and shoulder brought on the Sentinel's climax as well. The younger man was swaying precariously in the aftermath, barely able to maintain his footing on the slick shower floor. With the last of his own strength, Jim brought his hands to Blair's waist to hold him steady. They remained that way until they both got their breathing under control. 

The Sentinel brought the washcloth with him when he rose from his kneeling position. He was about to hand it over to his Guide when the hot water gave out, drawing yelps from both men as they were drenched by the freezing spray from the shower head. Knowing how easily Blair caught a chill, Jim pushed him from the tub with a gentle kiss to ease the sting of separation. 

"Man, I was looking forward to..." 

"You'll get your turn soon enough, Chief. Besides, I'm not sure I could handle another round right now," the Sentinel said as he gestured to his now flaccid penis. 

"All right. I'll take a raincheck," Blair answered with a pout, but grinned mischievously as he added, "for now." 

While the Sentinel rushed to wash himself as quickly as possible, Blair was using the edge of his towel to clear a spot in the fogged bathroom mirror. After he brushed his teeth, he poured some of Jim's shaving cream into his hand and began applying it to his face. By the time the older man was drying himself off, the younger man was about halfway through his task. Jim was enthralled as he watched the familiar process. Blair's expression was one of intense concentration as he contorted his features to reach some of the more awkward areas. He had never understood why so many women were fascinated by observing men shave, until now. It wasn't so much the actions themselves, but the level of intimacy involved in seeing something so casual, and yet at the same time so personal. Jim almost felt like a voyeur, even though he had seen Blair shave many times in the past. 

"What, did I miss a spot or something?" Blair asked. The question startled Jim, who had believed that his Guide was unaware of his close scrutiny. 

"No. I was just watching you," the Sentinel replied. 

"Oookay," Blair laughed as he rinsed off the remaining flecks of shaving cream. Moving forward, the younger man gave the Sentinel a short, gentle kiss. As he broke away, Blair smiled. "I'm gonna go start breakfast while you finish up in here." 

Before his Guide could leave the steamy bathroom, Jim grabbed the smaller man by the arm and swung him around for a long, passionate kiss. Blair's hands moved slowly up his back as Jim's tongue demanded, and was granted entrance into his Guide's mouth. When they finally broke apart, the younger man brought a shaking hand up to his kiss-bruised lips. 

"Wow!" he said simply. "What was that for?" 

"Merry Christmas, Blair," Jim answered with a smile. 

Somewhat dazed, the younger man managed to return the sentiment before he stumbled his way to the kitchen. 

* * *

They ate a quick breakfast of eggs and toast before they moved into the living room to open presents. The weather outside was utterly typical of Cascade; cold, yet high enough over the freezing point to keep the pouring rain from turning into snow. Jim was somewhat grateful for the dark, heavy clouds that hung low in the sky. Sentinel and Guide combated the dim light and the humidity from the rain that was seeping in through the windows with a combination of a roaring fire and the twinkle of the tree lights. Alone with his lover on Christmas day as they opened their gifts, the loft had a special air of coziness about it. 

Blair dug into the box he had brought with him, dividing the festively-wrapped presents into piles -- those for Jim, and all the others that he would have to distribute later that afternoon at the Browns. Once the task was completed, they began exchanging gifts one at a time. 

For Blair, Jim had purchased a vast array of gifts. The younger man was thrilled by each and every one, partially for the time and money his Sentinel had put into them, but mostly for the thought that went into choosing each present. Clothing, camping gear, books, a new attaché case, a new earring (Jim pitched a fit when Blair said he would have to add another piercing to wear it, but wouldnt disclose exactly where he was going to put it). However, the most touching gift Jim presented to his Guide was a box full of CDs, each with a song that reminded the older man of some aspect of their relationship. That last gift earned Jim a powerful embrace filled with a variety of kisses ranging from gentle to Im-going-to-take-you-right-here -right-now. 

In turn, Blair had also put a great deal of consideration into his choices for Jim. Clothing, the new ankle holster Jim had mentioned he wanted, a carved panther fetish, a few books on same-sex relationships (the Sentinel turned a lovely shade of red as he flipped through the pages of The Gay Joy of Sex), but it wasnt until he opened the last box that Jims heart skipped a beat. Blair had taken the time to go through every photograph he had of the two of them together. Choosing twenty of his favorites, he had them enlarged to 8x10 and put them into a professional style album made of the softest dark leather. Flipping through the pages, Jim relived the memories of each occasion; from Christmases past to the Detective of the Year banquet to Blairs graduation day. Overwhelmed by emotion, Jim could barely get out any words to thank his Guide for such a touching gift. Instead, he just pulled the younger man into a backbreaking embrace and held on tight. 

With their gifts to each other out of the way, they moved on to some of the others that were left under the tree. A few of the professors that the anthropologist had worked with at Rainer had dropped off gifts at the loft over the past few weeks. Naomi sent Jim a beautifully hand carved mask. Blair explained the significance of it as they picked out a place to display it. 

Blair was nothing short of stunned when he opened Stevens gift to him. Jim, I cant believe this! This is too much, man, he exclaimed as he leafed through the brochures. 

I know, Chief. I said pretty much the exact same thing, but Steven insisted. This trip is really important to him, the Sentinel explained. 

Look, Jim, maybe it would be better if just the two of you went alone, yknow, spend some fraternal quality time together or something. You just say the word, and Ill make up some school commitment... 

No way, Chief. First off, this is a chance for me to see you. In case you dont realize it, Id walk through hell itself just to spend an extra minute of time with you, Jim answered Blairs beaming smile with a gentle grin of his own before continuing. Second of all, I doubt that Steven would have shelled out this kind of dough if he really didnt want you along as well. 

Well then, I guess were going to Aspen! Blair replied with an impish smile before launching himself into Jims waiting arms. 

After exchanging a few smoldering kisses, they broke apart and began cleaning up the shredded wrapping paper that littered the floor. His Guide held the large black trash bag open as Jim threw the refuse into it. As they were working, Jims detective instinct had him puzzling over something that he had been working over in the back of his mind for the past two days. 

Whats wrong, Jim? Blair asked, alerted by the distant look on his Sentinels face. It was the same expression the detective always sported when something in one of his cases just didnt seem to add up. 

Shaking his head at the silliness of the problem, Jim was hesitant to mention it. Its no big deal, Sandburg. 

In retrospect, Jim should have known better. Saying those words when there obviously was something bothering him had the same effect as waving a red flag and surrounding the problem with neon lighting. Blair was always as tenacious as a pitbull when it came to dragging information out of the reluctant Sentinel. As it was, the younger man didnt even need to use words. Instead, he simply crossed his arms patiently over his chest, a gesture that sent a silent cue that said Im waiting. 

One look at the unspoken demand in Blairs body language and the Sentinel was tried to keep himself from capitulating. However, as soon as he saw one defiant eyebrow arch up to his Guides hairline, Jim felt his backbone take a hike. Rubbing the bridge of his nose in resignation, the detective finally broke down and admitted what was bothering him so. 

Im not quite sure how to say this without being insulting, so try to bear with me here, Chief. Jim paused as he waited for Sandburgs nod that he understood what his partner was saying. When Steven told me the vacation was for the three of us, I sort of wondered why he had included you. Dont get me wrong here, Chief. I cant wait to spend another whole week with you, even if it will be sheer torture knowing that youre so close by, and I wont be able to touch you. I just dont know if Ill be ready to...well... 

Blairs heartbeat spiked as he finished the thought. Come out to Steven about our relationship? 

Nodding to confirm the younger mans suspicions, Jim wondered what exactly had caused his Guides pulse to skyrocket. Blair had never had any problems with keeping their new relationship under wraps before. In fact, he always seemed somewhat relieved that they wouldnt be disclosing anything to their friends and acquaintances for the time being. 

Now, his Guide looked as though he were mentally debating something. Jim watched the parade of emotions cross Blairs face, knowing from experience to wait until the younger man had reached an internal conclusion before attempting to find out what was going on in that brilliant mind of his. It was a only a few seconds before Blair took a deep breath and pasted a smile on his face. 

We better get moving if were going to be on time for dinner. Did you remember to get all the stuff I asked for from the grocery store? Blair inquired conversationally as he walked to the kitchen. 

Well aware that his Guides decision was to duck the matter for the moment, Jim allowed the blatant change of subject with an abiding tolerance. Ill let it go for now, Chief, but we will discuss this later when we have more time, the Sentinel thought to himself. Speaking aloud, he confirmed that he had, indeed, filled the list of ingredients that Blair had recited over the phone last week. With an exaggerated sigh, Jim followed his Guide into the kitchen to help. 

They managed to steer the conversation back to less sensitive ground as Blair threw together the vegetable dish he was supposed to bring with him. They were as efficient as ever, falling back to their old habit of the younger man cooking and the older man cleaning up behind him. When the task was completed, they moved back to the living room and gathered up the presents they would be bringing with them to the Browns. 

With some time left to kill before they had to leave, Blair talked Jim into making fresh whipped cream from scratch to go with the pumpkin pie he would be bringing. Since the Sentinel had never made the treat before, the younger man guided him through the process, just like he guided Jim with his enhanced senses. Blair insisted that the older man do the work himself, supervising as the Sentinel added the confection sugar to the thick cream before he blended the ingredients together. 

It wasnt all that long before the bad puns and innuendoes started flying. It began with Jims stray comment that the vibration from the hand-held power mixer was, in his own words, a little exciting. Blair plastered a thoughtful look on his face as he loudly muttered that he would have to remember that his Sentinel found small electrical appliances stimulating. The conversation headed straight downhill from that point, leaving both men half-aroused and with bad cases of the giggles. 

Blair continually tasted the confection to check its consistency, until Jim thought of a better idea. Running his own finger along the side of the bowl, the Sentinel brought up his hand and smeared the clinging whipped cream all over his Guides full lips. Bending down, he proceeded to lick the sweet substance away, before claiming the rest of Blairs mouth in a series of searing kisses that left both men aching with need. As they pulled apart, Jim quipped to his dazed partner. So, what do you think? 

Coming back to his senses, the younger man quickly reached over to turn off the mixer that had continued to run during the passionate exchange. I think if that gets whipped much longer, youre going to end up with a bowl full of butter. 

Jim raised an eyebrow at the comment, but didnt say anything out loud as he turned off the mixer and removed the beaters. Offering one to his Guide, they both took a minute to lick the whipped cream from the metal like little kids, each man laughing at the sight of the other. They shared one more sticky kiss before turning around to finish the last of the kitchen clean-up. 

Yknow, Chief, Jim called softly without looking up from the beaters he was washing. Its too bad we didnt make any more whip cream. It might have come in...handy...later tonight. 

Without missing a beat, Blair set down the piece of saran wrap he was about to cover the bowl with for transport. Jim barely managed to contain his laughter as he heard the younger man slam another, smaller tupperware bowl on the counter and start rapidly dividing the whip cream evenly between the two containers. 

"Better get that Cool-Whip out of the fridge, man," Blair said seriously. "I don't think there's enough for everybody and I don't give a shit what day of the year it is -- I am not going to share." 

Jim was howling with laughter as his Guide handed him one of the tupperware containers to put back into the fridge for later. 

* * *

December 25th 3:04 PM 

The dinner Ray and Karen Brown were hosting was more of a pot-luck supper for those members of the police force who had no other family with whom to celebrate the holiday. Karen had prepared both an enormous turkey and a honey-baked ham, but the remaining side-dishes and desserts were brought by the guests. The end result was a mountain of food that should have fed a small army. 

Blair and Jim were among the first to arrive. They called out greetings to the people who were gathered in the living room as they made their way into the kitchen to drop off their own contributions for dinner. Blair had brought his famous sweet potato soufflé, always a favorite among the detectives who had been lucky enough to experience it. Jim, on the other hand, had gone the bachelor route, purchasing three large pies from the bakery downstairs from the loft. 

They entered the kitchen just in time to see Karen struggling unsuccessfully to remove the twenty-five pound turkey from the oven. Moving as one, Sentinel and Guide quickly set their own burdens on whatever unfettered counter space they could find, and rushed forward to whisk the heavy load out of the expectant mothers arms. When Jim had a firm grip on the hotpads, Blair relinquished his hold and directed the detective to the waiting wooden cooling board on a nearby table. 

Ah, the cavalry has arrived, Karen joked, remembering Blairs fondness for any kind of culinary endeavors. 

Blair rolled his eyes, but nevertheless allowed himself to be drafted to the kitchen detail until more of the guests arrived. Jim took a minute to enjoy the anthropologists absolutely dumbfounded look when he asked what he could do to help, instead of heading for the living room to enjoy the football game already in progress with the rest of the guys. It wasnt as though he really wanted to hang out in the kitchen. The simple truth of the matter was that Blair had only been home for less than a day, and Jim would be damned before he willingly spent even a second of precious time away from his lover. 

Just keep him away from anything edible, Blair told Karen. When the Sentinel defended himself, his Guide just smirked and shook his head. Protest all you want, man. 

Ill have you know that there are some things I can cook very well, Jim insisted. 

Yeah, well, youve got your version, and Ive got the truth, Blair laughed. I should know, I suffered through what you consider cooking three times a week for almost four years, man. 

Karen set Jim to work doing what he did best in a kitchen, cleaning and straightening. The remainder of the guests all arrived within twenty minutes of Jim and Blair. With fresh draftees available, Karen graciously shooed the men out into what she referred to as the den of testosterone. 

After making the social rounds, the lovers, along with Darryl and Simon, excused themselves to Karens study in order to privately exchange presents. Father and son had chosen to go in together on gifts for the partners. For Jim, there was the new style of Ray-Bans that he had been lusting after for months now; and Blair was thrilled with the latest model of Nike hiking boots. Much to Simons chagrin, Jim gifted Darryl with a pair of third row tickets to the sold out Fugees concert. He had purchased the tickets in the same Vice operation that had netted Stevens Jags tickets. The younger Banks was no less excited by Blairs gift to him. The anthropologist had somehow managed to find an autographed Michael Jordan trading card. Between their gifts, the Sentinel was almost sure he could actually see the kid vibrating out of sheer happiness. 

Jim and Blair had coordinated long distance in their choice of gifts for Simon. The Sentinel went first, presenting his Captain with a beautiful polished wood humidor for his cigars. As he handed over his own present for the older man, Blair made Simon promise not to arrest him. 

Arrest you? Simon marveled as he read the outside of the wooden box. Sandburg, if you were a woman, Id kiss you! Where in the hell did you get a box of Cohibas? 

A good anthropologist always reveals his sources, Blair quipped. Lets just say that youd better be really nice to Naomi the next time you see her. 

Ill keep that in mind, kid, Simon replied as he quickly did his best to rewrap the box in what was left of the shredded gift wrap it had been enclosed in a few minutes earlier. 

What are you doing, Dad? Darryl inquired. 

Half of my cigar club is sitting between this box and my car. You must be crazy if you think that Im going to share these fine Cuban cigars. 

With Jim, Blair, and Darryl running interference, Simon managed to smuggle the precious cigars safely out to his trunk without notice. He barely made it back inside in time to hear Karen call everyone to the table. Moving into the seat his son had held for him, Simon was honored when he was asked to say grace. The word amen was still floating in the air when those assembled attacked the food like a pack of wild dogs. 

* * *

December 25th 9:05 PM 

Content and sated, the two lovers walked into the loft. Without exchanging words, Blair moved to the stereo to turn on some soft Christmas music. Jim automatically went to the fireplace to light a fire, more for ambiance than for warmth. In deference to Blair, the Sentinel was keeping the central heating unit at a much higher temperature than he required for himself. 

"What would you prefer," Blair asked from the kitchen. "Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate?" 

"Umm, hot chocolate sounds great, Chief," Jim answered. 

While the younger man busied himself at the stove, the Sentinel filled the time by checking the messages on the answering machine. 

"Hi Blair, hi Jim, it's Naomi. I just wanted to wish you both a Merry Christmas. I'm going to Big Sur this week, and I don't know when I'll be able to call again. Have fun with your visit, honey. Bye." 

"Merry Christmas, guys. It's Steven. I just wanted to make sure Blair got there okay, but since you're not home, I'll take that as a yes. Otherwise, you'd be sitting around sulking all day, Jim. Well, I hope you are having a good time. The skiing is great this year, and we're headed out on a hayride in a few minutes. I guess I'll try calling tomorrow. Oh, by the way Blair, thanks for the prints. They're going to look great over my fireplace. I hope you liked your gift. Maybe...well...maybe you'll change your mind about...umm...your return flight. Well, anyway, Merry Christmas to you both. Talk to you soon. Bye." 

When Blair's heart rate spiked during the part of Steven's message that was directed to him, the Sentinel was immediately alert. He could hear his Guide sigh in relief when Steven asked about his return flight. Something wasn't right, and ever the detective, Jim wanted to know what it was. Without much to go on, he reviewed the entire message mentally. 'Change your mind about...' About what, Jim wondered. It was obvious that the part about the airline reservations was a substitute for something else, but what? Maybe it was time to do a little subtle fishing. 

"Chief, what did Steven mean about your return flight?" the Sentinel asked. 

"Huh? Oh, um, Steven offered to send the company jet to take me home, too, but the only time it's available is the 27th, and I really didn't want to go back that soon, so I, ah, I told him that I shouldn't have a problem with my commercial ticket..." 

'Bingo!' the Sentinel thought. As Blair was going on about airline reservations, Jim was using his senses to monitor the younger man's responses. Besides the increase in his Guide's pulse, he could almost smell the fear and apprehension rolling off the smaller man. Now that he thought about it, Blair reacted in a similar fashion when he'd opened Steven's present earlier this morning. Was there something amiss between his brother and his Guide? If so, why would Steven have gone to the trouble to arrange Blair's transportation back to Cascade? The younger man was still prattling on when the detective interrupted the obvious obfuscation that was currently in progress. Jim spoke in a tone that wouldn't tolerate any nonsense. 

"What's going on, Sandburg?" 

"What do you mean, Jim," he asked nervously. 

More curious than angry at his Guide's poor attempt to play dumb, the Sentinel shook his head slightly as he answered. "Cut the crap, Chief. That's twice today your heartbeat has spiked, and both times it happened, we were talking about Steven. Now, I'll ask again, what's going on with you two." 

Jim watched Blair face carefully, reading the fleeting expressions that moved across it like hieroglyphics. He watched as his Guide created and discarded several options to avoid getting any deeper into this discussion. As each mental scenario was dismissed, Jim could have sworn that the younger man visibly deflated, leaving him looking vulnerable, almost fragile. As Blair gradually accepted that telling his Sentinel the truth was his only viable option, the Sentinel could hear his Guide's heartbeat increase ever so slightly. 

Watching the younger man was tying Jim's stomach in knots. When he decided to call his Guide on his unusual reaction, the Sentinel never thought that whatever Blair was attempting to hide was so serious. It was plain to see that the younger man was scared, but of what? Of him? Of Steven? The train of thought was interrupted when his Guide spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours. 

"Oh man, this is so not going to be pleasant," Blair mumbled as he kept his eyes averted from Jim's. The Sentinel would have none of it, though. Grasping the younger man's chin, he waited patiently until the deep blue eyes rose up to meet his own. 

"What's not going to be pleasant, Chief?" Jim asked as tenderly as he could manage in an attempt to reassure the tense figure in front of him. 

Blair took another deep breath to bolster his courage before trying to speak again. "Jim...Steven...the Aspen trip...oh God, where do I start," he prayed aloud in frustration. 

How 'bout at the very beginning?" Jim teased, trying to lighten what looked to be a very difficult moment for his Guide. 

"It's a very good place to start," Blair recited with a small smile. "Jim, there's no way easy way to tell you this, 'cause I know that no matter how I say it, you're, like, going to freak on me..." 

The way Blair was building this up was worrying Jim, so he interrupted to try and calm the younger man. "Chief, just tell me what's got you so worked up. Please." 

Locking his gaze onto Jim's clear blue eyes, Blair finally blurted out what he had been trying to avoid discussing since earlier that morning. "Jim, Steven knows. He's known for months now. About us being lovers." 

The knowledge sent the detective reeling. Dozens of emotions ran through the Sentinel at high speed -- embarrassment, relief, hope, anger, confusion -- all fighting for control at the same time. The last one emerged victorious. In a flurry of activity, his brain struggled to recall if what he either said or did to somehow alert his brother of the change in their relationship, but nothing came to mind. Since it seemed as though his Guide knew the answers, Jim quietly whispered one simple question. 

"How?" Either he spoke too softly, or Blair was too far gone in his own thoughts to hear him; regardless, the Sentinel repeated his question in with a sharp edge in his voice. "How did he find out, Chief?" 

The wave of shame that rolled off the younger man was almost palpable. When he spoke, it was almost too softly for even Jim's enhanced sense of hearing. "I told him." 

"You told him," Jim parroted in a tone so cold, it made liquid nitrogen seem warm by comparison. As it was, the Sentinel was furious; how could Blair have betrayed him like this? To his brother no less? Sure, he and Steven were growing closer as time went on; but Jim wasn't certain that the friendship they were working so hard to construct could weather a blow like this. What if Steven was repulsed by the idea of his older brother sleeping with another man? 

There was a lag time before the Sentinel's higher reasoning kicked in to motion. Once the initial panic wore off, Jim recalled Blair's words from just a few moments earlier. 'Steven's known for months now.' The detective began taking all the aspects into consideration; his brother's constant inquiries about Blair, including the younger man in the Aspen trip, even making sure that his Guide came home for the holidays. 

Feeling drained by the turn of events, Jim sank back into the sofa. Sighing deeply, he turned to his Guide. "All right, talk," he demanded tiredly. 

Buying some time to gather his thoughts, Blair drank the last of his hot chocolate, and carefully set the mug down on the coffee table. A slight shadow of fear hovered in his deep blue eyes. As he began to speak, the Sentinel could clearly discern the hesitation in the normally soothing voice. 

Jim listened patiently as Blair told the tale of Steven's visit to Virginia, of his late night confession, of Steven's compassion and acceptance of the situation. His Guide held nothing back; and for the first time, the Sentinel learned of how much pain and hurt Blair suffered through from Jim's rejection. A sense of shame overcame him as the story continued, so combated it with the first thing that came to mind. 

"C'mere, Blair," Jim said tenderly as he pulled the younger man into his arms. Weaving the fingers of one hand into the soft strands of curls, he used the other to soothingly stroke along his Guide's back. As the gentle caresses continued, he could feel the tension draining away, until Blair's smaller form almost melted into his own. "I'm sorry I got so upset. You should have told me that he knew months ago. I just can't believe he never said anything to me about it." 

"That's my fault," Blair's voice was muffled by his chest. "He wanted to tell you, but I...," he trailed off, choosing instead to tighten his hold on Jim's solid form. 

"But what, Chief?" the Sentinel prompted as he increased the pace of his comforting strokes. 

"I knew you'd be upset, and I didn't want to risk what we were trying to build. I know it was wrong, but I was nervous that it might set you off again. I couldn't take the chance that you wouldn't understand why I told him," Blair confessed softly. 

Jim understood all too well why Blair had turned to Steven for a confidant. In his anger, the Sentinel completely pushed his Guide away. Alone and bereft, Blair managed to find someone who was close enough to the situation to offer good advice, and Jim would be eternally grateful to his younger brother for being there just when Blair needed him. 

"Well, I guess this solves the problem of whether or not we tell Steven about us before we leave for Aspen this Spring," Jim joked weakly. 

The younger man pulled back enough to look up into the Sentinel's soft blue eyes. "Then you're okay with this?" he asked carefully. 

The pleading expression on that beautiful face made even the smallest white lie impossible, no matter how good his intentions were. "I'm not real happy that you said anything to Steven without my consent, and I'm even less thrilled that you kept it from me for so long. I'm just happy that Steven is okay with us being together. But, that doesn't mean that I've changed my mind about keeping this quiet for the time being," Jim warned sternly. 

Blair snuggled back closer to his Sentinel before he answered. "I'm haven't either. I guess this is as good a time as any to ask, but has anyone made any comments about us yet?" 

Caught off guard, Jim tensed up. "What do you mean?" 

"Come on, Jim," Blair chuckled. "I'm your Guide. Don't think that I haven't noticed you using your senses to pick up any stray comments about us. So, has anybody noticed a difference in our behavior since I came back?" 

"No, nobody has said anything that they haven't said before. From what I've overheard, most people are just assuming we're staying close to each other since we've been apart so long." 

"You know, Jim. Steven pointed out something a couple of months ago. He said that we've always been more touchy-feely than most guys who are just friends. I don't think that most of our friends are really going to notice much difference in our behavior now, especially if we are careful," Blair stated confidently. 

"You're probably right." With a kiss to the top of the smaller man's head, Jim rose from the sofa to turn the floorlamp off, leaving the loft bathed in the soft light provided by the fireplace and the Christmas tree bulbs. With a quick stop by the stereo to raise the volume, the Sentinel returned to stand in front of the sofa. 

Jim saw Blair's eyes flare in surprise when he extended a hand and tenderly asked, "May I have this dance?" A gentle smile crossed his Guide's face as Blair reached up to place his elegant hand into the larger one that was waiting for him. The Sentinel stroked his thumb carefully along the soft skin at the base of Blair's thumb as he led the younger man to the open spot in front of the tree. 

Moving fluidly, Jim brought one hand up to cup the back of Blair's neck, leaving the other free to wrap around his Guide's waist. The Sentinel let out a sigh of contentment when he felt Blair's hands caress the muscular planes of his back. Holding his Guide like this felt so right. Blair's smaller form fit perfectly into his larger frame, almost as though they had been made for each other. 

They swayed gently together as the radio played a cover of "Blue Christmas." Neither man missed the irony of the lyrics, and as the haunting words filled the loft, they both clung to each other a little tighter. Turning his head slightly, the Sentinel nuzzled into the sweet-smelling curling that adorned the top of his Guide's head. Blair's lips were resting motionless against the side of Jim's neck. Each of his Guide's breaths tickled the Sentinel's flesh like a feather, raising goosebumps up and down his body. 

Focusing intently on the soft whispers of warm air, Jim was startled when Blair placed a gentle kiss on his throat. Moaning at the sensation, the Sentinel rolled his head back in invitation. Slowly, Blair kissed a trail along the older man's neck, only lingering when Jim's soft groans indicated that he had found an especially sensitive place. Once the younger man reached the soft flesh just under his Sentinel's ear, he varied his course and moved directly to Jim's waiting mouth. 

As their lips brushed together, both men involuntarily moved closer to each other, drawn by an inner need to have as much contact as possible. Blair's lips were warm under his, their soft movements coaxing Jim's lips apart. Once he had gained access, the younger man swept his tongue lightly along the moist flesh of the Sentinel's inner lip, almost daring the other man's tongue to come out and play. It was a silent request Jim wasn't about to refuse. He thrust his own tongue forward to dance around his Guide's, chasing it into Blair's mouth only to retreat back into his own. 

Time lost all meaning as their game continued. Jim sensed the younger man's arousal, not only by the burgeoning erection that was drilling into his thigh, but also by the nasal-sounding moans that Blair generated with each breath he exhaled. The soft noises were doing just as much to inflame the Sentinel as the deep kisses they were sharing. 

With a final sweeping lick to Jim's lips, Blair broke the kiss. As he leaned back, a long sigh of contentment escaped the younger man. The Sentinel forced his eyes open only find his Guide already staring at him, as though he was waiting for Jim to catch up before they went any further. 

Blair's eyes were almost completely black, dilated by passion, not a lack of light. With his Sentinel vision, Jim could clearly see the reflection of the tree lights in the gleaming gaze of those sensuous eyes; he probably would have been able to count the number of individual bulbs. That is, if he wanted to. However, at that moment, the tree lights were absolutely the last thing on the Sentinel's mind. Not with this beautiful man standing before him waiting to consummate their love. 

Blair's lips parted as he focused his concentration totally on his Sentinel. Raising a hand slowly to Jim's face, he softly brushed the back of his fingers against a stubble-covered cheek. Leaning in to increase the pressure of the touch, Jim closed his eyes in an effort to magnify the intensity of the caress. The next time he opened them was when the soothing motions ceased. Jim was about to ask if something was wrong when Blair spoke. 

"Make love with me, Jim." 

It wasn't said as a question or even as a request. It was a promise. Blair's choice of syntax was a correct one. This relationship wasn't about control, it was about sharing, about partnership. There would be no domination or submission, neither man wanted to control the other. Their love was like their connection as Sentinel and Guide; symbiotic, halves of a whole, each man incomplete without the other. It took so long for them to reach this point, to be physically and emotionally ready to love each other body and soul, but the wait was necessary. If this situation had happened any sooner, they might not have been ready to make the commitment that would forever bind them to each other. 

Blair's hand was still cupping his cheek. Jim raised his own hand to cover it, squeezing it tightly as he pulled it away from his face. Smiling gently, he led the younger man towards the stairs, only to stop when Blair squeezed his hand to gain his attention. 

"What?" Jim asked, worried that his Guide was experiencing a change of heart. Truth be told, the Sentinel didn't think he would survive it if Blair were to change his mind now. 

"I know this is kind of a mood killer, but I'd like to...well...um...get ready for bed, as it were," Blair mumbled, his face burning red with embarrassment. 

A matching flush was creeping up Jim's cheeks as well. With a nod of assent, Jim stood at the base of the stairs waiting for the younger man to do what he needed to. Feeling restless with anticipation, the Sentinel walked over to the stereo and increased the volume so that they would have some background music when they were upstairs. He wasn't consciously aware that he had tuned out any and all noise from the bathroom, until his Guide startled him with a hand on his back. He never even heard the younger man's approach. With a quick kiss to his lover, Jim headed to the bathroom to freshen up himself. 

When he returned, his Guide was waiting for him. Hand and hand, they ascended the stairs with Blair leading the way. Their constant stops to exchange kisses and tender caresses slowed their journey somewhat. The stairs leveled out the differences in their heights, and both men were enjoying taking advantage of it. Long moments later, they stood face to face a scant foot away from Jim's bed. 

* * *

Pulling the younger man in for a kiss, Jim felt himself drowning in the now-familiar tastes of Blair's luscious mouth. It didn't last long, though. Detaching himself with a last lingering kiss, his Guide began trailing his hands from their perch on the Sentinel's shoulders down to the bottom of his wool sweater. The garment was quickly removed and thrown aside, leaving a thin T-shirt as the only barrier to the firm flesh underneath. Blair's hands repeated their journey down Jim's muscular chest; only this time his lips followed closely behind. 

Long elegant fingers grasped the cotton shirt and nimbly pulled it free from the waist of the Sentinel's pants. Holding the fabric bunched in his fists, Blair lifted the shirt only high enough to expose the rippling flesh that surrounded Jim's navel. Leaning forward, the younger man placed his lips at the edge of the hem, and used his tongue to lick the small section of exposed flesh. Each time he completed his oral explorations of an area, Blair would raise the shirt another few inches and repeat the entire process. 

The series of nibbles, licks and kisses was nothing but pure torture for the Sentinel. By the time the younger man reached the upper part of his chest, Jim was certain that he was going to lose control and come right there on the spot. Blair seemed to understand his Sentinel's dilemma. Just before he reached Jim's nipples, he paused in his ministrations to remove all of the older man's remaining clothing. 

Jim's newly-exposed skin was flushed with passion, his hard nipples and powerful erection were ridged, almost as though they were reaching out to silently beg for the younger man's touch. However, Blair was frozen in place, finding exquisite pleasure in just looking at the vision before him. The Sentinel watched as those passion-darkened eyes trailed up and down his body until they finally rested on his hard cock. The intense scrutiny sent an involuntary twitch through his swollen member, and Jim couldn't help but smile when his Guide gasped in surprise at the movement. 

With the assault on his body interrupted, some of Jim's higher reasoning abilities returned. Judging by his Guide's rising body temperature and escalating pulse, the younger man was incredibly turned-on just by looking at his Sentinel's firm body. Wanting to indulge Blair, Jim slowly turned around, allowing his Guide to drink his fill. By the time he completed the circle, the younger man was almost panting from the desire that was flowing through him. Even from this distance, the Sentinel swore he could feel the heat rolling off of Blair's hard erection. 

"So beautiful, so perfect," Blair managed to say, in between the small gasps of air he was reduced to taking. 

"It's all yours, now and always," Jim responded before moving closer for a kiss. As their mouths fought a gentle battle, the Sentinel worked quickly to undress the smaller man. Once Jim managed to complete his task, he reached for Blair and pulled their bodies together tightly. 

The skin-to-skin contact dragged moans of unbridled passion from both men's throats. The disparity in their heights prevented their erections from rubbing together, at least not without some uncomfortable contortions. Rather than remain standing, Jim gently eased them down onto the waiting mattress. 

With their tongues still rolling around each other, the Sentinel pressed his larger form against his Guide's heated flesh. As their cocks came into contact with each other, Jim felt the warm rush of air accompanying the moan that escaped from Blair's mouth. Moving in tandem, they both began to slowly undulate their hips to increase the pressure on their throbbing erections. 

The sweet friction was rapidly driving the Sentinel close to the edge of release. Not wanting to rush, Jim broke his mouth away to explore Blair's body with the same kind of intensity the younger man had used to explore his own just a little while ago. Licking and kissing, the Sentinel began at his Guide's ears and worked his way downwards. 

Using his sense of taste, Jim catalogued the subtle differences in each inch of flesh; the mixture of musk and shampoo that was prevalent just below the younger man's ears, the slight flavor of laundry detergent along the area where Blair's collar rubbed against his neck, the salty tang of sweat along Blair's pectoral muscles that seemed to grow sweeter in taste as he moved further downwards. 

When Jim reached the first distended nipple, he used his tongue to gently circle the aureole, carefully avoiding any direct contact with the already throbbing peak. Blair's back was arched, blindly trying to put the sensitive bud in the path of his Sentinel's wet tongue. With a tender parting kiss, Jim moved his mouth away, leaving behind a trail of kisses as he made his way across to the other waiting nipple. He smiled as the dusky hair that was so prevalent on his Guide's chest tickled his nose as he continued his ministrations. 

Once Jim reached his destination, he repeated his actions, only there was one slight difference this time. The maddening circles he made were wider this time, due to the nipple ring that stood in the way. The tightness in the tender bud forced the hoop to lay at a slight angle, away from the younger man's skin. Fortunately, it also happened to leave just enough room for the tip of Jim's probing tongue to maneuver under without moving the ring itself. Without any warning of what he was about to do, the Sentinel forced his agile tongue into the hoop and gave it a gentle tug. 

The effect was breathtaking. Shrieking in ecstasy, Blair's back arched up from the bed. His hands flew to capture Jim's head and lock it into place, as a constant stream of pleas for more escaped his lips. The scent of semen wafted up to tease the Sentinel's nose, and with a quick look down at his Guide's groin, he easily saw the glistening drops of pre-cum that his action had produced. The tantalizing sight was enough paralyzed Jim with sheer lust. 

Taking advantage of his Sentinel's momentary distraction, Blair managed to reverse their positions. He kissed a trail down Jim's torso, paying homage to the rippling muscles and heated flesh, as he made his way downward. With short licks to Jim's nipples and navel, Blair didn't stop until he reached the swollen erection that was his ultimate destination. 

The Sentinel's eyes were tightly shut as he silently prayed for the velvety lips of his Guide to touch his throbbing member. Placing a trembling hand on the top of Blair's head, Jim wordlessly urged the younger man towards his cock. The sound of Blair's quiet chuckle was still echoing in the Sentinel's ears as his Guide pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his rock hard shaft. 

"Ummm," Blair moaned enthusiastically as he began a series of sweeping licks along the head. 

As the velvety lips engulfed the first few inches of his cock, Jim's back arched off the mattress in an effort to find more of the powerful pleasure that only his Guide's mouth could offer. He felt more than heard Blair gagging as the Sentinel's first involuntary thrust forced the full length of his erection deep into the younger man's throat. Instantly aware of his blunder, Jim sank back down on the mattress as he shot Blair an anxious glance. 

Blair pulled back slightly, resting his warm cheek against the thick mat of coarse hair that surrounded the base of Jim's cock. As guilt overcame him, the Sentinel quickly untangled his hands from his Guide's long locks. The younger man's eyes were still misted over, no doubt an aftereffect from the accidental choking. Jim only hoped that Blair could read the sincerity in his expression. 

"Oh God, Blair. I'm so..." 

"Don't," Blair interrupted in a consoling tone of voice. "It's okay, Jim. Besides, I kinda like knowing that I can make you lose control," he said with a smile that was half amazement and half lechery. With that said, the younger man leaned forward to finish what he had started. As he took several inches of the long shaft into his mouth, this time Blair remembered to relax the muscles of his throat to avoid gagging. 

The pleasure Jim was feeling was absolutely sinful. Somehow, his Guide managed to engulf about three quarters of the Sentinel's erection; and the dual sensations of Blair's tongue flitting quickly along the shaft in concert with the powerful throat muscles that gently massaged the head of his cock were driving him wild. Jim's moans of passion were quickly reduced to pitiful whimpers as he felt the onset of his orgasm approaching. White-knuckled, he grasped the thick comforter in both hands, desperately reaching for anything that would keep his hands from grabbing the younger man's head and fucking the talented mouth that was expertly sucking him off. One look at the sight of Blair's long curls bobbing up and down as he worked over Jim's heated flesh was enough to send the older man over the threshold. 

"Oh Blair,...coming!...I'm gonna come!...aaaAAHH!" he wailed as he shot his semen into Blair's waiting mouth. 

His Guide swallowed his seed greedily, as though he were determined not to waste of precious drop of his Sentinel's essence. Like a kitten, Blair's tender licks cleaned up any remnants of Jim's passion. Shivers ran through his large form each time the warm tongue made contact with his overly sensitive flesh. 

"Sounds like you enjoyed that," Blair teased before he left one last parting kiss on the slit at the top of the softening shaft. His task completed, he crawled up to sprawl over Jim's larger frame like a human blanket. The Sentinel took advantage of the reprieve to catch his breath, while his Guide pressed phantom-like butterfly kisses along his face and shoulders. 

'How does he do that so well? Is it instinct? Natural talent? Did he read a book? Right, Ellison. Knowing Blair, it's a lethal combination of all of the above,' Jim wondered to himself once the warm haziness that followed orgasm began to melt away. It wasn't long before his thoughts were interrupted as he became aware of his Guide's unsatisfied erection pressing against his stomach. Wanting to give Blair the same pleasure the younger man had just given him, the Sentinel wondered if he would be able to actually do it. Steeling his resolve, Jim decided to find out. 

Gently reversing their positions, the older man retraced the path he had made down Blair's body before the younger man had reversed their positions. He made mental notes of the more sensitive areas as he journeyed downward, filing the information away for future reference. By the time Jim reached Blair's groin, the younger man was trembling from a combination of hope and need. He swore he could almost hear his Guide's silent pleas not to stop before he reached the prize that Blair was offering to him. 

Stalling for time, Jim wrapped his hand around the base of the swollen shaft, and began pumping his fist in a slow rhythm. The gentle pumping caused Blair's hips to start undulating, almost, it seemed, of their own volition. Taking a deep breath, Jim brought his mouth to his Guide's cock for the first time. 

"Jiiiimmm!" The long, sweeping lick of the Sentinel's tongue wrenched the wail of approval from the younger man. Encouraged by the cry, Jim repeated the action twice more, varying the pressure and speed each time. 

"OhGod!OhGod!OhGod!" Blair moaned. 

Jim reeled as his senses were bombarded by stimulations. They were all reporting in at the same time, overwhelming him for a moment. It took all of his considerable willpower to bring order to his chaotic thoughts, but it was well worth the effort. He started by cataloguing the unique feeling of the tender flesh under his tongue; the silk-over-steel contrast of the soft skin thoroughly engorged by the blood moving rapidly just under the surface. The dichotomy of the smooth flesh marred by the raised veins was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was as unique as the taste of his Guide's semen; a thick, rich mixture of salt and something Jim just accepted as 'Blair.' 

"Don't stop, Jim. Oh God, please don't stop. Lick me. Suck me." Blair's litany of pleas emboldened the Sentinel to explore further. Dipping downward, Jim nuzzled at the younger man's balls, before drawing first one, then the other into his mouth. "Jesus!" he heard Blair hiss through clenched teeth. 

Now that Jim managed to overcome his irrational fear of this particular act, he was ready to explore each and every part of his Guide. With a tender kiss to each testicle, Jim continued on to trace the ultra-sensitive flesh of Blair's perineum with his tongue. As if sensing his Sentinel's intent, Blair drew his legs up by hooking an arm under each thigh, exposing himself completely to the older man. Knowing the level of trust it required for Blair to offer himself like that, Jim felt a rush of desire race through him. If the Sentinel harbored any doubts about what he was planning to do next, they evaporated in that instant. 

Leaning forward just a bit, Jim shifted his hands to the firm globes of Blair's ass, spreading the cheeks further apart for better access. Starting at the base of Blair's sac, Jim left a warm trail of saliva as he traced along the cleft, stopping just short of the delicate entrance to the younger man's body. 

"Jiiiiimmm! Oh pleasepleaseplease!" The needy words echoed in the Sentinel's ears as his tongue made contact with the sensitive flesh of Blair's anus. A deep moan erupted from low in his Guide's throat as Jim used his tongue to trace circles around the nerve-laced opening. Blair's hips were bucking wildly, forcing the Sentinel to tighten his grip in order to continue his gentle rimming of the hole. 

As the contact became more erratic, Blair's passion-hazed mind finally grasped the problem. With Herculean effort, Blair managed to bring his movements marginally under control. The thrusting motions gave way to squirming as he tried to find a thrusting motion that would increase the pleasure without dislodging the tongue that was giving it. Noting the force of will it must have taken his Guide to stop the wild undulations, Jim rewarded Blair by working his tongue into the puckered opening and gently moved it in and out. 

A stream of sobbing moans reverberated through the loft as the Sentinel proceeded to tongue-fuck his Guide. It was only moments before Jim saw Blair's balls draw up as the younger man rushed towards orgasm. With a soft kiss to the tender hole, Jim moved back, ignoring his Guide's demands not to stop. 

"I want to be in you, Blair. Please, I need to feel you, to be inside you." 

Jim was reaching for the new tube on the nightstand even before his Guide nodded his consent, too breathless to actually speak any words. It didn't take long before he pressed the first slick finger into Blair's waiting ass, only to be rapidly joined by a second. 'God, I don't remember him being this tight,' Jim marveled as he worked to loosen the protective ring of muscle that guarded the tender entrance. 'If he's this tight around my fingers, what is it going to be like when I get my dick inside him?' 

Despite the lust that welled up in him at the thought, Jim took his time in preparing the younger man. He would rather be emasculated than cause Blair any unnecessary pain. Ignoring the ache that was caused by his powerful erection, the Sentinel added a third finger to insure that his Guide would be well-stretched before he proceeded any further. 

"Please Jim, now! I need you now!" Blair begged as he thrust fiercely back on the probing fingers. 

The Sentinel could only manage a jerky nod to acknowledge his agreement. Thoroughly coating his cock with an generous amount of lube, Jim quickly positioned himself against the waiting entrance. Pausing for just a moment, he looked directly into the passion-darkened eyes before leaning down for a gentle kiss of reassurance. 

"I love you, Blair," Jim said tenderly as he pushed forward. The powerful ring of muscle squeezed the head of his cock as it broke through, forcing the air out of his lungs in a hiss of pleasure. He tried to go as slowly as he could manage, using Blair's respiration to judge when the younger man was ready to take more. 

The younger man couldn't prevent the soft whimpers that escaped him as his body struggled to acclimate itself to the unusual invasion. Whispering soft words of encouragement in between a rain of soft kisses, the Sentinel gradually slid his shaft into the hot passage, and after what seemed like an eternity, Jim was finally buried to the hilt in his Guide. He could still see the pain and tension in the younger man's face, so he waited until Blair signaled that he was ready for more. 

"I...I'm okay," Blair gasped, but Jim wasn't convinced. The rapid pounding of his Guide's heart betrayed the brave words. Withdrawing an inch or so, the Sentinel started as softly as he could manage, only deepening the thrusts when he felt Blair start moving against him. It wasn't long before Blair's hips were encouraging him to go faster, drawing a moan of pleasure from the Sentinel. After a few minutes, Jim was taking long strokes; pulling out until only the head of his cock remained buried within Blair, only to plunge his full length back into the depths of the younger man's ass. Time ceased to have any meaning as they moved against each other. 

"God, Jim. You feel so good, so big. More, please more," his Guide groaned as he increased the rhythm of his counterthrusts. Blair threw his legs around Jim's waist and locked them together at his ankles. The shift changed the angle of the Sentinel's strokes, causing his shaft to brush directly against Blair's prostate. 

"YES!" Blair screamed, as the incredible rush of pleasure raced through him. Jim knew that his Guide was much closer to completion than he was, and set out to give Blair the release that he needed now, rather than drawing it out until they could come at the same time. Snaking a hand between their sweaty bodies, Jim grabbed his Guide's cock; the simple touch enough to trigger Blair's climax. 

"Gonna...come...can't stop...oh...OH...JIM!" With lightning speed, his Guide's legs slid back down to the bed, only to be replaced by his hands clamping down on the firm flesh of the Sentinel's ass. The impossible grip held Jim's hips in place with strength the older man hadn't known Blair possessed. 

Without any movement to distract him, Jim felt every part of Blair's orgasm; the tightening of the balls, the flow of semen through the throbbing shaft, the pulse of the long spurts that shot the come onto both of their stomachs. However, it was the sensations around his own cock that sent Jim over the edge. As the powerful sphincter muscles contracted around the base of his cock, the shaft was massaged by the echoes that rippled through the tender flesh of Blair's passage. 

"Oh shit! Blair!" Jim yelled in surprised. Breaking Blair's iron grip, the Sentinel managed half a dozen pounding strokes into his Guide's ass as he came. Blackness hovered at the edge of his vision due to the power of the unexpected orgasm. With one final thrust, Jim collapsed onto Blair. 

The intensity of their lovemaking left both men in a stupor, both trying to calm their rapid heartbeats. With the last bit of his remaining strength, Blair urged Jim to roll off of him, unable to breathe with the larger man's bulk pressing down on him. 

The Sentinel was almost asleep when he felt more than heard his Guide start to laugh. 

"What's so funny, Chief?" he asked, his voice hoarse from his earlier screams. 

"We forgot the whipped cream," Blair chuckled. 

"There's always tomorrow," Jim suggested helpfully before joining the young man's quiet laughter. 

"The night is still relatively young," Blair stated seductively. 

"Have mercy on an old man, Sandburg. I don't think my heart can take another bout like that last one without some rest," Jim pleaded as Blair cuddled his face against the Sentinel's broad chest. 

Whispering 'I love you's,' they both quickly slipped into slumber. 

* * *

Epilogue 

In the days that followed, Sentinel and Guide easily returned to their old patterns of living; the only real difference was their sleeping arrangements. Blair accompanied Jim to the station each day, somehow getting stuck doing all of the unfinished paperwork from the carjacking bust. In fact, only one case took them out of the station at all. Most of the time, Blair just sat and grumbled about traveling all that way just so he could fill out form after form. 

It was difficult to say who was more surprised, Jim or Blair, when Simon wordlessly handed over the anthropologists old Observer I.D. Blair had been required to return it before he left for Virginia; however, since the I.D. was valid until June of the next year, the Captain had just locked it away in his desk. He had suspected that the younger man would want to ride with Ellison and Ryf whenever he came back into town, and Blair certainly didn't disappoint him. 

For the most part, Blair spent his evenings with Jim. They went out to dinner once, but generally preferred to stay home where they didn't have to monitor their behavior. Sentinel and Guide spent the entire six day period together with the exception of the night that Blair reluctantly tore himself away from his lover to go out with some of old friends from Rainier. 

They were both hoping that a position would be open in the coming fall, one that would allow the professor to return to Cascade and allow him to continue his work in the field of anthropology. At that point in time, there were no openings, but the fall was still months away, and as they both were well aware, a lot can happen in nine months. 

Instead of focusing on their impending separation, the two men would retreat to the couch every evening for marathon cuddling sessions. Whether they just watched television, or made out like teenagers; it was more than enough just to know they were together and in love with each other. 

And love each other they did. Jim couldn't recall another time in his entire life where he'd had sex with the frequency that he maintained with Blair. Each morning -- whether in bed, in the shower, or even the kitchen table once when his Guide was feeling rather adventurous -- and each night, they made passionate love to each other. It was awkward at times, as they discovered the intricacies of the actual mechanics; but after the nervous laughter; the frequent blushes; and more importantly, the powerful orgasms, it was worth it. 

* * *

December 30th 11:02 PM 

'Time flies...,' Jim thought as he waited with Blair for the final boarding call of the younger man's flight back to Virginia. 

Indeed, time had flown by the last few days. Time. Jim realized what a precious gift it really was over the course of the past week. 

Any doubts he had about their relationship were completely banished from his mind. If nothing else, this week with Blair proved to him that they were meant to be together. Now that they were forced to separate, Jim once again braced himself for the pain of separation that he knew was coming. 

"Geez, Jim, I didn't think I was that rough on you," Blair commented when he saw Jim wincing in pain as he shifted in his chair. They had chosen to say their 'good-byes' at home, rather than risk being seen in public. Unfortunately, they got a little carried away. His Guide had been determined to give his lover something 'to remember him by.' Even now, hours later, the Sentinel's ass was still warm and throbbing from Blair's pounding thrusts. 

Looking into his Guide's smirking face, Jim couldn't help but smile himself. "I'm fine, Chief. I'm just looking forward to payback," he taunted. 

Blair's face lit up at the thought of the prospect. "I'm so glad Simon cleared your time off. Just think, man. Only two more weeks until we're together again." 

The Captain had indeed kept his earlier promise to the Sentinel. With the 50 hours of overtime Jim had logged during the carjacking case, Simon was only too happy to give his detective comp time to go to Virginia for ten days. Frankly, after all those long hours, Jim could use the vacation. 

"This is the final boarding call of flight 361, direct service to Charlotte." 

With no direct flights from Richmond to Cascade, Blair had a two hour layover while he before he could change planes. At Jim's insistence, Blair's called the airline's customer service line to get a refund on his ticket. The younger man not only received a voucher for a free round trip to Cascade, but he also managed to get himself bumped up to first class for both of his return flights. 

"I guess this is it," Blair said as he leaned over to pick up his backpack. The movement pulled his hair for allowing his hair to fall forward, the long curls completely concealing his face. Jim would have none of it, though, and brought a hand up to raise his Guide's chin. Although he was trying his best to hide it, tears filled the wide smoky blue eyes. 

"Hey, come on here, Chief. It's only two weeks...," Jim said tenderly. If he thought his words were comforting his Guide, the Sentinel was greatly mistaken. 

"I know that, Jim. It's just that...well, I feel like we're not supposed to be apart from each other. And it's not just the 'new relationship' kinda thing. It's deeper than that." A solitary tear slipped down Blair's cheek as he expressed his emotions. 

"I know," Jim replied as his own throat began to tighten. Taking the smaller man into a crushing embrace, the Sentinel closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to make one final imprint of the man he loved. Uncaring of the people around them, Jim pressed a gentle kiss to his Guide's forehead. "I love you, Blair," he said softly. 

"I love you, too, Jim." With one last squeeze, they broke apart. 

"Safe trip, Chief." 

"Take care of yourself, love." Blair adjusted his backpack and made his way towards the woman checking tickets. As he reached the jetway, the younger man turned around for one last look at his Sentinel. Smiling sadly, he whispered, "I'll be waiting for you," before disappearing from Jim's sight. 

'I'll be there soon, Chief. Count on it.' 

* * *

End Songs You Know by Heart 5: Please Come Home for Christmas.

 


End file.
